I studied remotely for my first year, so my sophomore fall semester was my first time living on campus. One of the best parts of being in person is being able to partake in Princeton's numerous traditions that aim to build community in the Orange Bubble, so here are seven of my favorites that I've had the chance to experience:

1. Pre-Rade

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The Pre-rade is a parade in which an incoming class is officially welcomed to Princeton by running through Fitzrandolph gates. Alumni, upperclassmen and the student band cheer for you as you sprint through the black iron gates in front of Nassau Hall. The Class of 2024 didn't have a Pre-rade last year due to the pandemic, so ours was held this year just before the Class of 2025 Pre-rade. Students never walk through Fitzrandolph gates again until commencement, because legend has it you won't graduate in four years if you do! I don't know if I believe this, but I'm not going to be the one to find out.

2. Chalkboards

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I have yet to see a single dry-erase whiteboard on the Princeton campus. Instead, every classroom or office I've seen has a traditional black chalkboard. I'm not entirely sure what the logic is behind this. You're forced to write more slowly on a chalkboard, I've found, so maybe this forces professors to slow down when teaching and helps students pinpoint mistakes in their reasoning when working through equations. Whatever the purpose, writing on a chalkboard feels old-fashioned and classic in a way that reminds me of Einstein working at Princeton (even when I'm only writing out a homework problem instead of refining the theories of quantum physics).

3. Forbes Garden and Sunday Brunch

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My residential college, Forbes, is home to both the Princeton Garden Project, where student garden managers organize workdays where students can help weed and harvest, and to their famous weekly Sunday brunch, complete with a chocolate fountain. I enjoyed checking out the garden this semester and seeing the vegetables and fruits they were growing, and the Sunday brunch never failed to impress. 

4. Bonfire

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When the Princeton football team defeats both Harvard and Yale in the same season, the tradition is to host a celebratory bonfire on Cannon Green. Each class year had a specified time throughout the day when they could place crates on the structure to be burned, and in the evening students cheered as the Yale and Harvard-decorated structure went up in flames.

5. Outdoor Action

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Outdoor Action is best-known for organizing the pre-orientation camping trip for first years, but they also offer hikes and other sporting activities to all students throughout the year. On "OA Day" Saturday this semester, I decided to join a hike at the Mountain Lakes Nature Preserve (about a mile off campus). The scenery was lovely and I was able to meet some new people.

6. Newspapers

The Daily Princetonian is always available online, but I really enjoy reading a copy of the physical newspaper. Having a print copy allows me to see stories that wouldn't otherwise catch my eye online, and it's nice to get a break from the screen. Each Friday afternoon copies of the Daily Princetonian and the Nassau Weekly, the literary magazine, are distributed to the residential colleges. I always look forward to picking up my copies and catching up with news and discussion of the Orange Bubble at the end of the week.

7. Applause after the final lecture

At the conclusion of the final lecture on the last day of classes, the students erupt into a hearty round of applause in gratitude for all the knowledge the professor has imparted throughout the semester. This occurred in a way on Zoom last year in the form of "thank you!" messages and "clapping hands" emojis flooding the chat, but it was so much more meaningful in person.

These were the Princeton traditions I got to experience this fall, and I'm looking forward to what sophomore spring will bring!

The Princeton academic experience offers a liberal arts education to each student, even those not majoring in the humanities or social sciences. Kevin has a lovely post about what a liberal arts education means to him as an engineer. Like Kevin, I chose Princeton in part because I hoped to gain the technical knowledge needed for my engineering career as well as broaden my perspective on major life themes. I wanted to be trained in the knowledge and skills for environmental research, yet I was also seeking a liberal arts education that would guide my decision-making and problem-solving throughout life. 

Engineering students at Princeton take a writing seminar in their freshman year, and they take a minimum of 7 additional humanities or social science courses before graduation. This averages to one humanities or social science course each semester for engineering students. There is plenty of room for selection with these courses, which can span topics from Happiness and Being Human in Catholic Thought (a philosophy freshman seminar I took last fall) to Mother Tongues (a linguistics freshman seminar I took last spring) to Advanced French (a language class I took last spring).

This fall, I decided to enroll in a visual arts course called Fabric Logics: Textiles as Sculpture. The major units in the course are string art, sewing and weaving. The structure and assignments of the course are very different from what I'm used to: the class meets only once a week, but for a 4-hour class, and instead of being assigned papers or problem sets, I create artworks using the techniques we learn in class. For the sewing unit, our sample project assignment was to create a fruit or a vegetable to practice machine and hand sewing. Please enjoy this image of the banana I made:

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Being able to explore courses in the humanities and social sciences each semester allows me to pursue other interests and learn techniques and ideas that could one day influence my engineering career. For instance, the weaving technique in Fabric Logics could be similar to a lab procedure I'll need one day, or my studies in French culture could influence the type of environmental solutions I propose for a francophone city. Princeton's liberal arts education prepares me to be a creative and dynamic problem-solver, which I hope will allow me to have the greatest positive impact I can have in the world.

It was 11pm, and Frist Theater was packed. I sat in the second row, squeezed up close to the stage, where an empty table, a couch and a banner emblazoned All-Nighter were arranged in anticipation for its season 10 premiere.

As the lights dimmed, a piano melody began to play. The announcer’s chipper, sly voice came over the speakers and made several quick notes and jokes, to the low, appreciative murmur of the crowd. Moments later, the host of Princeton’s student-run late-night talk show was striding down the middle aisle and leaping onto the stage.

In my four years at Princeton, this was the first time I’d made it to All-Nighter. I’d previously taken the show literally and assumed it was actually an all-night, dusk to dawn affair, which had put me off from attending. I quickly realized that 1) I deeply regretted my failure to attend every late-night show, and 2) I wouldn’t have minded if it did truly last all night.

All-Nighter is a truly wonderful expression of the talent and passion bubbling at Princeton. Every episode features both a student and faculty guest who talk about their projects, passions and expertise. During this season’s first episode, we heard from Professor Florent Masse’s work with French theater and Olympic athlete Sondre Guttormsen ‘23. 

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When I attended the second episode a few weeks later, I heard from Professor Bill Gleason, one of my favorite professors and teacher of the popular Children’s Literature class; and Tanaka Ngwara ‘24, who designs fantasy period piece dresses and costumes and was recently featured in Vogue.

All-Nighter also features musical guests who are absolutely superb. I’ve heard student rappers, singers belt out soul-searching renditions of Adele and a cellist ensemble rocking out. And in between every guest, the show has wonderful skits and comedy sketches. There is so much work and passion on display both on the stage and behind it, because the entire operation ambitiously handles so many moving parts, guests and set pieces within a tight timeline.   

All I can say is - I’ll be staying up for as many late nights as I can until I graduate.

Having been recently diagnosed with a disability, ulcerative colitis, one of the main fears I had living on campus was the accommodation system. I had only gone through the process during virtual learning, so witnessing how my illness would affect me on campus was a bit scary. I feared that I would not be getting the accommodations I needed. Considering the cyclical nature of my illness, I feared that the Office of Disability Services would not see my accommodations as necessary. Although I got most of my accommodations, my need for a private bathroom was not met, yet I’ve managed without it for now. 

The fact that I didn’t have certain accommodations that I felt were necessary made me worried about how accessible the campus would be. But, I find that generally, the staff and members of the University are quite understanding of disabilities. For one, my professors have been incredibly helpful in honoring my accommodations. Additionally, the Office of Disability Services is generally very responsive and helpful to meet the varying needs of students with accommodations. Despite the fact that I moved hundreds of miles away from home, with access to my needs more limited, I still flourish. Really, accommodations is about finding out how to work within a system, even if the resources you need are all not there. 

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One of the biggest pieces of advice I would give to incoming first-year students is to make sure your accommodations prepare for the worst case scenario, rather than your present condition. College is a large transition. You can not predict its effect on your disability. Additionally, as long as you have the proper documentation and good reasoning, you should be able to get those accommodations. Another piece of advice I would give is to not be afraid to advocate for yourself. There are many staff who help you advocate for what you need to succeed at Princeton, like our Residential College Staff. Reaching out to them can be instrumental in ensuring you get the resources you need, and knowing that persistence is key. 

Princeton has helped me advocate for myself more, intertwining with my interest in politics. Princeton gives a plethora of resources for those with varying disabilities — you just need to take advantage of those resources.

Princeton is known for having a strong alumni network, but prior to matriculating, I wasn’t quite sure what that would mean — I had vague impressions of reunions held on Princeton’s campus every year, and met some alumni from the Richmond, Virginia area when I was accepted, but it wasn’t until this semester that I began to experience first hand the sorts of ways that alumni connect with students.

As a member of the University Press Club, a group of freelance journalists on Princeton’s campus, I met some of the alumni for the first time last spring, when we had our biannual board meeting. This meeting provides board members (all of them former Press Club members themselves) a summary of club activities and updates from the past semester. I was incredibly nervous prior to loading into the Zoom room as our board includes editors for the Washington Post and New York Times, CEOs, authors and more. I felt a little out of place, having only written for a handful of publications before my first semester with the club.

And I wasn’t sure what to expect, but what became clear as the board meeting began was that each board member cared deeply about the present and future of the Press Club. Although they had all left the club in member capacity when they graduated Princeton, it still obviously occupied space in their hearts and minds, and they listened intently to what club members had to say and gave insightful and varied feedback and suggestions. During a normal semester, I’m told that the Press Club gathers with board members in a physical conference room in New York City, but even without this formality, there was a gravity and intensity in the Zoom room that was welcome and comforting — we, the current club members, weren’t alone in our pursuit of journalism.

This semester, in addition to the regular board meeting, we have been joined by a board member or other alumni every other week to discuss their careers and bounce story ideas off of them. It’s injected new energy into our weekly meetings — it’s always good to have a fresh mind to generate ideas for what to write about — and I’ve really enjoyed getting to know some of the Press Club alumni and hearing about the different paths they took after graduating.

The Press Club is small, with usually under fifteen active members, so feeling like we have a whole alumni network behind us means a lot. While my future is still uncertain, journalism or some career in writing looms intimidatingly large on the horizon. It’s nice to meet some of the people who have similar interests as I do, chat with them about their career paths, get advice about the changing landscape of the field, but above all, it’s nice to have their support and interest as the Press Club continues to grow and change. It’s comforting to know that the people who were in my place in years past haven’t just left the club and Princeton behind; rather, they keep on cultivating the group that meant so much to them.

Members of Princeton’s Class of 2022 have had an up-and-down, unconventional time during these past four years. But I count myself very lucky to have experienced not just one, but two, of Princeton’s most unpredictable and unforgettable traditions: the bonfire, which happens only if our football team defeats both Harvard and Yale in one season.

In the late fall of 2018, and again just this month, all of campus gathered in front of Morrison Hall for a bonfire that reached high into the night sky. 

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This year, I found myself staring at the high, bare branches of a particular tree, lit brightly against the dark sky by the orange glow of the bonfire. I remembered looking at the same tree three years ago as a first-year. Now, in the same place and warmed by that same heat, I didn’t even have to close my eyes to imagine that it was 2018, that the majority of my time at Princeton still stretched ahead of me. 

The crowd, rowdy and calling for the flames before the fire had begun, seemed to quiet as the bonfire crackled, its sparks catching high into the wind. On one side of the green, the Greek pillars of Whig and Clio were lit orange - all other light came from the growing fire, illuminating our faces and protecting us from the November chill. 

Sustained on wood pallets assembled and painted by each class the same afternoon, the flames stretched as tall as the trees, as if they were trying to ring the bell atop Nassau Hall. The crowd cheered as wooden pallets cracked and fell as they were consumed. Within our orange bubble, everything touched by night was lit bright as day.

The fire remained strong for more than an hour before it began to diminish. I felt that I had been there only a minute since it first began.  

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Princeton was the last stop on my college tour. This was not intentional by any means, it just so happened that I circled by Princeton last before heading to the airport. In retrospect, had I visited Princeton first, I do not doubt that the rest of the college tour would have been for naught because everything else faded in my memory as soon as I stepped foot in the Orange Bubble. 

I visited in the summer when Princeton is quieter, serene and as gorgeous as ever. There is something about the empty walkways and buildings that both intimidate and invite you in, and as a high school sophomore, I could see myself at Princeton, walking (or running, as I often do now) to class, weaving my way through the residential colleges in search of new study places (of which there are plenty), or sitting at a bench outside stealing a moment to myself in the midst of organized chaos. 

Now, speaking to you as a student who was lucky enough to be admitted, the beauty of Princeton extends beyond its exterior. To begin, there is also never a ‘standard,’ or ‘average’ day here. I might wake up expecting to attend my 3-hour seminar in a classroom, but instead spend the class time sitting outside with my classmates and professor discussing politics. I’ll think I’m spending the night eating dinner with my friends but instead find myself wading in the SPIA fountain on a whim and meeting so many new people. The opportunities and paths are endless here on a day-to-day basis, and they become even more varied the more time you spend here. 

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I also love Princeton for the people and how genuine they are. Even before I had committed to the University, Professor Ksenia Chizhova from the East Asian Studies department reached out to me to arrange a Skype call to talk about my interests and how I could pursue them at Princeton. She assured me of the attention I would receive from the professors and people here, and after I arrived, I saw how true this was. The professors are so attentive, friendly and care about their students. My professor for a course called “China’s Frontiers”  sent me a feedback email after the first class, complimenting me on points I brought up during the discussion. 

I also learn a lot from my classmates, who are inspirational in their drive and work ethic, their commitment to social causes and extracurriculars outside of class, and their willingness to lend a helping hand. Everyone here has an interesting story to tell, and my friends range from environmental engineers to future politicians. As someone who is greatly influenced by the environment I am in, I believe there is no other place where you will be able to become the best version of yourself than Princeton. So take the chance, and join our Princeton community! There is a place for you here.

My best friend introduced me to Chancellor Green Library during our first few weeks on campus.  We quickly bonded over our love of this peaceful rotunda. The library often teems with busy students, including me.  Something about the beautiful atmosphere makes my stress dissipate, at least a little.

Chancellor Green, while a library in name, does not have a circulation desk. There are shelves full of the most random collection of novels and nonfiction books. I’ve seen everything from Toni Morrison’s "Tar Baby", to an outdated guide to getting into law school, to Professor Keith Whittington’s "Speak Freely", the book about free speech chosen by President Eisgruber for everyone in my class year to read before our first semester.

The library contains four oversized brown leather chairs with matching ottomans that are by far the most comfortable chairs I’ve ever sat in. My favorite chair is the one with the best view of the entrance and the stairs leading up to the top level. This makes it easy to spot other friends who also gravitate towards this study space.

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The only noises to be heard in this peaceful abode are the whir of the air conditioner and the occasional whispers. The quietness makes it a productive place to complete my assignments. Full conversations are not exactly tolerated here. Most of the time this holds true, except one afternoon when there was an opera rehearsal while I was trying to study. There are lots of events in Chancellor Green because it is such a beautiful place.

Chancellor Green is also a prime napping location. There have been countless times I’ve come here looking for a seat only to find the comfy chairs taken by students fast asleep. Several times, I entered the library only to find a student napping in my favorite chair. When they got up, someone else sat down and promptly fell asleep.

Words cannot fully describe the magnificence of Chancellor Green. I am already dreading the days post-Princeton when I can no longer sink into my favorite chair and think about how lucky I am to be here.

I’m a bit obsessed with the holiday season...catch me on #holidaytok for sure. My family puts up our Christmas tree immediately after Halloween (November 1, to be specific). During that first week, all of the fall decor comes down and the holiday decor goes up: snowflake gels pressed onto the windows, gold lights strung across the trees, toy reindeer and “let it snow” signs stacked on the kitchen island. After we connect our holiday music to the house sound system, we’ve basically transformed into the North Pole in the middle of N.J. 

Given how whole-heartedly we celebrate the holidays at home, when I was a first-year at Princeton, I remember missing the rush to decorate and sing Ariana Grande’s “Santa Tell Me.” It felt strange to not set up a tree after Halloween, and I started longing for spaces where I could get into the holiday spirit. Over the past few years, I’ve found many ways to satisfy my Christmas music cravings and decor instincts. If you’re also on #holidaytok, check out some of the ways that I like to celebrate at Princeton throughout November and December!

Mini Tree 

It’s a pink Christmas! This year, I bought a 4-foot pink tree to decorate in my dorm room. It was super easy to set up and a quick find on Amazon. I used a bunch of my ornaments from home so that I could feel like I was in my own house around the holidays. I plan to put all of my gifts for friends and family before break under the tree so it’ll be extra festive. 

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PSEC’s WinterFest

As a Program Chair of the Princeton Student Events Committee (PSEC), I’m involved in planning school-wide events that function as study breaks and fun outings with friends. One of our annual events is WinterFest, where you can make holiday stuffed animals and winter crafts, take photos with winter backdrops, and eat yummy food like pies, latkes, cheesecake bites and so much more. It’s literally a huge food buffet in the middle of Frist Campus Center.

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Starbucks Holiday Drinks

While there are a ton of places to get coffee on campus, I can’t resist the Starbucks holiday drinks. And since we’re lucky to have a Starbucks right on Nassau Street (literally right across the street from campus), I’ll often pop in for something festive. 

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Palmer Square Lights & Tree

Every year, Palmer Square (a shopping & dining area walking distance from campus) decorates one of their biggest trees with beautiful rainbow lights. It’s a tradition to take photos in front of the tree! The whole surrounding area is also decorated with tons of gold lights that always remind me of the ones my family has at home. 

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Cannon Club Tree Decorating 

My eating club Cannon also has its own holiday events and food. I especially love decorating the tree-- if you couldn’t tell by now, I’m really into Christmas trees. We drink hot chocolate, eat cookies and blast holiday music together. 

Cheer Holiday Practice 

Princeton Cheer always has its own holiday practice, where we dress up in holiday outfits and play fun games. Typically our coach will bring hot chocolate and desserts, and we’ll split up into teams to compete in a bunch of challenges. 

Secret Santas 

Secret Santas are one of my favorite parts about being on campus during December. My family never did Secret Santas growing up, so this is a bit of a new tradition I’ve started at Princeton. Each year I participate/organize multiple Secret Santas with clubs and teams that I’m a part of. It’s so fun to meet up with friends and exchange presents. 

Not only does Princeton look absolutely magical in the snow, but it has a lot to offer when it comes to all things winter and holidays. Of course, I look forward to winter break at home with my family, but I now get equally excited for the holiday season at school! 

At Princeton, life is busy. This should come as no surprise to anyone who has spoken to one of the five thousand undergraduates who call this chilly part of New Jersey home — this is a campus where students are known to hang out at a dining hall much past midnight, sipping coffee and finishing assignments, where many need an electric scooter, bike or skateboard to get from one lecture to another in time, where students schedule things like “Coffee with Grady” in their Google Calendar to ensure that they can fit in their social obligations alongside their academic and extracurricular ones.

There is something exciting about the bustle, to be sure, but this campus can be a tiring place. On the first day of November, I took the chance to slow down with the Religious Life Council, a project of the Office of Religious Life (ORL), for a talk on “Scholarship as a Contemplative Practice.” Contemplation — a key part of existence that I find easy to forget in college, when everything can feel so fast-paced and objective-focused.

The Office of Religious Life is located at Murray-Dodge Hall, one of my favorite buildings on campus — not least of which because of its open-daily cafe which offers free tea and cookies, its beautiful redbrown archways and the Joni Mitchell quote inscribed on a table in the quiet inner courtyard. The talk on contemplation was here, and as ever, when I entered Murray-Dodge, I felt a little calmer.

The ORL is always full with tea, conversation and friends old and new, and this night was no different. After a quick dinner and chat, we — students, faculty, staff and other members of the Princeton community — filed into a room where we unstacked and lined up chairs in a semi-circle facing the three professors who were there to talk. Although I no longer would describe myself as religious (which isn’t as uncommon as one might think at the ORL), this tradition reminded me fondly of the past: unstacking and restacking folding chairs at the United Methodist church I attended growing up.

Professors Ruha Benjamin, Yair Mintzker and Michael Hecht talked for a half hour about their experiences melding the contemplative and the scholastic; about focusing on research as a thing in itself to be prized, rather than to advance yourself and your career; about placing yourself in the narrative that your work produces; about the comfortable analogues between religion and science. Professor Benjamin described her experience in graduate school, when she had to work hard to ensure that what she was doing was actually connected to the real world and its real people. (Of course, they spoke about many other things as well, but I don’t feel well equipped enough to reconstruct their comments here faithfully.)

The talk was a welcome distraction from the work I left safely in my dorm room. For an hour and change, I thought deeply about something that was completely divorced from my various classes in semantic theory, philosophy of race and the italian subjunctive; I thought deeply about myself and my relation to this place called Princeton and all the demands that attending college anywhere places on a person. There is always time to take a break from strenuous, narrowly-focused work — there is always time to let the mind wander and think about other things — there is always time to close the textbooks. I carve out time to do this wherever I can; attending talks, screenings or readings that have nothing to do with a class I’m taking or something I want to major in. There is always time to be enriched by other things.