Studying abroad in London the summer before my senior year was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life! I was inspired to visit London during my junior year, after taking an amazing Shakespeare course with English Professor Russ Leo (he’s fantastic). The class, which explored some of Shakespeare’s earlier works, was one of the best classes I have taken at Princeton.

My favorite lectures were about the theater culture in London during the late 1500s. I was particularly fascinated by the history of the Globe Theatre, where Shakespeare staged some of his productions. Immediately after taking this course, I researched summer programs that would give me the opportunity to finally visit the famous Globe. I decided to join The Duke in London-Drama program because it offered two courses taught by the lovely and brilliant theater Professor Sarah Beckwith.

Over the course of six weeks, I saw more than 30 professional shows in London including dramas, comedies, musicals, and an opera! One of my favorites was, of course, the Globe’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” production. I also had a lot of free time, which allowed me to explore many parts of the city. I checked out several museums, had a ton of tea, and took plenty of pictures. One of the best parts about being in London was meeting up with other Princetonians. One of my friends, Dinora ’12, currently lives in London, and when she found out I was there, we quickly made plans to meet. One sunny morning (yes, London can be sunny, and it was surprisingly warm while I was there...), I met her and a few of her Princeton friends over a delicious English breakfast. 

 

They met through the Princeton Association UK, which hosts social events for young Princeton alumni in London. They each had nothing but positive things to say about their experience with the Princeton network while abroad. They emphasized that being able to hang out with other Princetonians made their time in London even better. I found this to be true after meeting up with a couple other Princeton undergraduates who were also working or studying at London that summer. Knowing I have a Princeton family in the theater capital of the world makes me all the more eager to return! 

 

At noon on Jan. 16, 2014, my first semester at Princeton finished. After finishing my thoughts in response to the devilish last problem of my physics final, abounding joy and relief at having made it brought me to Princeton Junction station: It was definitely time to leave the “Orange Bubble.”

When I first visited Princeton, I distinctly remember the tour guide explaining the peculiar phenomenon that we Princetonians term the “Orange Bubble.”  For all you who may not be familiar with this concept, it refers to the relative seclusion of Princeton from the outside world: I do not hesitate to speculate that 30% or more of Princetonians can count on one hand the number of times they’ve ventured beyond Nassau Street, and I know of people who, for example, only found out about the federal government shutdown when they tried to access data from government websites.

Fortunately (and paradoxically) enough, Princeton, one of the most insulating environments I’ve ever lived in, also offers more opportunity to travel and explore than anywhere else I’ve been. As I began this post, I was en route to NYC where I caught a bus to Boston. Princeton programs have taken me this way several times as well, en route to more exotic destinations: my freshman seminar to Cyprus and Greece, and the Bridge Year Program to Senegal, for example.  And by the end of next summer, I’ll have been to the Bahamas with the Department of Geosciences as well as Germany with Princeton in Munich (hopefully!).

The Bubble is real, sometimes cozy, but sometimes not.

As I write now from the library of my girlfriend’s art school in the collegiate (and brutally cold) city of Boston, I’m developing a new perspective on the Bubble. As much as I sometimes miss the empowering and exciting atmosphere of city life, the city will stay where it is, and, at least in the cases of Philadelphia and NYC, that’s only an hour away from Princeton. Meanwhile, the Bubble’s boundaries carve out a special place where an intensely academic environment also feels like home and where a strong community comes from the student body within the Bubble. For me, the important thing is remembering to periodically step outside of the Orange Bubble, physically and mentally, to keep in perspective what I do while I’m inside of it.

 

 

Many people keep themselves busy with hobbies; I lead different lifestyles. There is Thomas the Scholar, the Runner, the Writer, and the Mentor. I claim these titles as lifestyles due to how much time I dedicate to them as well as how each one defines me. They all serve as pieces of my identity, and without one of them I’m simply not myself.

This is how I define each lifestyle:

Scholar – Analytical and studious. Observes and learns from others. Reads hundreds of pages a week for self-development.

Runner – Forward-looking and carefree. Endures and welcomes the physical stress.  Averages 50 miles a week based on self-made half marathon training schedules.

Writer – Imaginative and fantastical. Drifts and creates alternate worlds. Writes 1000 words a day.

Mentor – Vicarious and concerned. Cares and worries about mentees living miles away. Manages a college awareness and mentorship program for underprivileged students.

Before coming to Princeton, I led different lives. What is the difference between leading different lifestyles and leading different lives? I believe everyone can have more than one lifestyle but only one life.

Because of this mindset, during high school I found myself divided in four. At times I struggled to discover what kind of life I was meant to lead. For example, I felt that Thomas the Scholar thought wholly different from Thomas the Writer, not to mention Thomas the Runner’s inability to understand Thomas the Mentor’s focus on others. I had many passions, but they seemed to contradict one another when pursued simultaneously. I also had difficulty finding time to truly live each life. Attempting to do so sapped the little energy I had left to enjoy any one of them.

What changed my way of thinking? I’m not going to turn this issue into a lesson in growing up (although the Mentor in me urges me to) or a romanticized version of my life (the Writer in me scorns the missed opportunity). The truth is that I don’t know at this moment. I do know that my life at Princeton has helped me shape and define my four lifestyles, and that something about this place has changed my thinking about the issue.

My next four blogs will focus on my four different lifestyles and their connections to my Princeton experience. By writing these entries, I wish to arrive at some sort of conclusion. I hope you will join me.

The college experience, perhaps more so than any other, should be defined by a sense of freedom – the freedom to study what interests us, the freedom to transform ourselves into whomever we want to be, and, of course, the freedom to let loose like we’ve always wanted. I’m happy to say that it was this freedom that pervaded at Wilson College’s last study break.

It’s 4:40 a.m. and my day begins. Sometimes I want to be coerced by my pillow to return my head to it. But even while the warmth of my bed is pleasing, especially because of the cold outside, at this time in the morning I am looking for something more fulfilling. So I descend from my top bunk and prepare as I prepare each morning: teeth, contacts, push-ups, laces.

Three flights of stairs later I am at the dorm entry door. It presents me with a false compromise as if capitulation were really an option. I go out.

The morning air greets me, swirling about my legs and up over my chest before pulling me forward with it, asking for a good run. A few lights glow in Wilson (my college), Butler and down Shapiro walk at Whitman College. Perhaps they belong to others who have risen or those who could not quite get to the switch last night. All of that and much of the University is increasingly behind me as each stride down Washington Road takes me further into the dark. The last building I see is the boathouse. It stands as an illuminated bastion welcoming the incoming and a point of departure for the outgoing, casting its perpetually fleeting shadow on the water.

When I step onto the trail that parallels Lake Carnegie, the only light provided is what the moon can give me. I like the darkness. It asks that I trust myself and be in the moment. One cannot see too far ahead, and one is never entirely sure of what has passed. This is why I left my pillow.

Much of the time the only sound is the beat of my pace, and occasionally a low woody susurrus. From time to time though a human voice breaks through from a megaphone. “Come on boys push harder.” or “Stroke faster” as the crew coach coaxes on the rowers. I welcome the unsanctioned race. Surely they “win” yet my personal victory does not need to be trumped by “loss.”

Six or so miles out, I turn to retake the steps I have laid. I feel like a better fated Phaethon as I return with the light of day on my heels. Back on campus, after the gym, it is time to untie my laces and slip on loafers. The rest of the day will not be so physical, but there will be no fewer pillows to rise from, no less murkiness to confront,  with the hope of a final clarity.

 

I fell in love with poetry in elementary school. My fifth grade teacher was obsessed with William Shakespeare. He shared his excitement for Shakespearean plays and sonnets with all of his students. During reading-time, he often pointed at a classic, extra-large, black and white poster of Shakespeare’s face and beam, “This man, still lives because of his words. Words are everything, words are... life!” At the time, I didn’t fully understand what he meant, but I was fascinated by his enthusiasm. As I read Shakespeare’s works, I was inspired to write and began my own journey as a poet.

During middle school and high school, I filled many composition notebooks with poetry and was asked to perform some of my poems for school-wide events. Thanks to YouTube, I found incredible spoken word poets that continue to influence my writing, including Andrea Gibson, Sarah Kay, and Sierra DeMulder.

During my first two years at Princeton, I wrote a few poems, but mainly focused on academics and community service. My junior year, everything changed. I met beautiful, talented peers who shared my passion for words. They wanted to form a poetry group called “Ellipses” and I joined in a heartbeat. We met weekly (in a cozy room at Spelman, an upperclass dormitory) to share our poems and offer each other feedback. In 2012, we were officially recognized as Princeton’s first spoken word organization! During our first year, we performed at open mics, led poetry workshops, competed against nearby colleges, and participated in the 2013 College Unions Poetry Slam Invitational (CUPSI). Ellipses quickly became my family away from home. My team members have helped me understand my elementary school teacher’s wisdom; words are, indeed, everything.  Currently, I serve as co-president of this amazing team! I am so excited for the future of Ellipses and will continue to share my love for words through poetry. 

At some point in my college search, I realized what Princeton’s colors are. I'd never been a huge fan of orange, and I particularly remember being struck by its combination with black. It's a combo I hadn’t encountered frequently, except for maybe in Halloween decorations, a few types of animals, and construction signs. My skepticism began to decline one day in March last year, the day I trembingly opened my browser to a page that knocked me to the ground in tears of joyful confusion.

It’s that time of the year. The semester is coming to a close here in the Orange Bubble. The New Jersey air grows more chilly than ever, just cold enough to make you rethink that night-time trek to late meal. More important, this is the time of settling back into university life, after a tumultuous period of mass transit. Within the span of a few months (October – January), Princeton students travel to take time off for Fall break, Thanksgiving break, and Winter break, back-to-back-to-back. But now as we return to our dorms and the holiday season wanes, we are refreshed, full of new travel stories, and ready for.. okay maybe not quite ready for finals.

A few weeks ago, the 123rd Princeton Triangle Show premiered! Hooray!

*confetti*
*pizzazz*
*free tattoos*
*that’s right I said free tattoos*

Triangle is a touring musical comedy group on campus. Every year, the club puts together a big musical revue and performs it at McCarter, a Broadway-size professional theater that brings in acts from around the world. Because the show is very professionally produced, all of the content is very mature and serious.

I was especially excited about the Triangle premiere because I am a member of the Triangle Writers Workshop, a group of 12-ish people who meet every week to pitch sketches and laugh harder at our jokes than the audience ever will. The writing process began last spring, when we chose space as our theme. We wrote a compelling two hour 3D drama about two astronauts who attempt to recover from the mid-orbit destruction of their space shuttle, then discarded it when Sandra Bullock stole our idea, as she always does. We replaced it with a full-length musical called Zero Gravitas (GET IT? GET IT?). Highlights included a space pirate shanty, a Star Trek gospel number, and a male kick line of Princess Leias singing a song called “Hot Buns.”

After polishing the show in two week-long boot camps, we sent it off into the world totally unsure of its future, like parents sending their kids to college or like 8-year-old me swallowing a nickel and hoping it would come out the other end (true story). The cast, crew, pit, and business team made our script into a performable musical in just a few months. And after attending the premiere, I can officially say that they TOTALLY RUINED IT.

Kidding, it was great. And in all seriousness, if you like to write, or act, or play instruments, or design tech, or advertise, or just watch hilariousness unfold, you should check out Triangle. Plus, if you live in one of these cities, you can watch Zero Gravitas for yourself! You might even get a free tattoo (they seriously do make Triangle temporary tattoos and it’s the best thing in the world).

One year ago, I was in Senegal with the Bridge Year Program, but really, the situation wasn’t so different than it is now. Halfway through the program was a difficult time for me. In Senegal, the issues were homesickness, language difficulties, finding my role in my home and service site. All these experiences were the trough of the so-called “adaptation period.” I was struggling to find a rhythm, but I had one big thing to look forward to: my family’s visit for Christmas and New Year’s.

I distinctly remember the day, Christmas Day in fact, of their arrival. It was a Tuesday morning in Yoff, the neighborhood of Dakar that the Bridge Year program is based in. After dropping their luggage off in the hotel, I led my family through the Tuesday market, stopping to get them some powerful Café Touba, a spiced coffee, and baguette for breakfast. I realized how excited I was to show them everything I had learned in the past four months, and it was during this week, as I brought them to meet my new family and community, that I became aware of actually feeling settled in my new home: Their visit restored my perspective on how far I had come and the identity I had carved out for myself in Senegal.

And now it has come full circle. At the end of November, my host family and their 3-year-old were granted what very few West Africans ever receive: tourist visas to the USA. This news came in the thick of my first semester at Princeton, as, just like in Senegal, I struggled to find my own identity on an academically intense and fast-paced campus. After the phone call, I remembered my parents’ visit a year earlier, and I reflected on the possibility of spending this Christmas with both of my families again. I realized that whatever struggles I encountered at Princeton, I had already come a long way. I had the fortune and privilege of continuing a special relationship, and a restored perspective of my identity at Princeton.

After having found last minute airfare, my host family flew from Dakar to Atlanta, where I picked them up six days before Christmas. We celebrated the holiday together with close (Mexican) family friends (talk about a cultural experience), and I’ll see the three of them again in New York before they return to Senegal!