As part of the various distribution requirements that one is expected to fulfill before graduating from Princeton, there is a mandatory course that all Princeton students must take: Writing Seminar—or colloquially called "Writing Sem." Even before I stepped onto Princeton's campus as a bona fide student, this course haunted me. Given that so much of a Princeton student's academic work relies on independent research and writing, the University kindly allows students to foster those skills in a classroom setting during either their first-year fall or spring semester. While most of the Princeton I spoke to before coming to the University lauded the independence of choosing classes and exploring niche topics in these classes, the conversation often got menacing when we reached the subject of the Writing Seminar. I'd quickly become intimidated as these students spoke of the hours of writing they had to do, the harsh grading, and the (sometimes) strict professors. Princeton writing seminars, at the time, required three papers: one 5-6 page paper, one 7-8 page paper, and one 10-12 page paper. On top of that, there are many other smaller assignments, readings, and feedback sessions that one has to complete during the 12-week semester. Thus, while I was lucky enough to take a Writing Seminar during the spring semester of my first year—after having some rigorous Princeton courses under my belt—by the time January rolled around and it was time to brave this beast of a course; I was very anxious.

However, upon arriving at my Writing Seminar classroom for WRI 129: Disrupting Nature, I was immediately assuaged by my professor's kind smile and warm welcome. Our class session immediately started with icebreaker questions—favorite TV shows, recommended books, etc.—and it was clear that this seminar would be more than just a class that the university required us to take; it would be a community. I won't lie; I had no idea what I was doing when I arrived at the seminar's first graded paper. I scribbled out six pages of (what I like to call) nonsense about climate change and human sacrifice, but I'm not sure what the seminar expected of me. And when I received my professor's feedback, I was pretty disheartened. I felt like I had written a failure of a paper. However, the hidden beauty of Princeton writing seminars is that you always get a second chance:

• You turn in drafts of your graded papers.

• Your professor returns these drafts with meticulous feedback.

• You revise.

The revision is what's graded. So, I rallied. I engaged with my professor's feedback, asked numerous questions in class, pored over my materials, and revised. And even in the end, I did not get the grade I had hoped for on this first paper. But, for what seemed like the first time in my academic journey, that didn't matter as much to me. What mattered more was a comment my professor left on my revision. "I can see the improvement from the draft to the revision." She could see my progress, and so could I! I was learning. I was growing. It felt good.

For the rest of the semester, I committed myself to caring more about progress than grades: engaging with reading materials that I typically would avoid, spending more time brainstorming essay subjects than I'd ever done in the past, and asking questions that I usually would keep to myself. All for the sake of growth. When the second paper came around, I was genuinely excited about writing it. I felt like I knew what I was doing, and I was excited to learn more while writing it. My grade on this paper improved from the prior, but so did my motivation. The task of academic writing was no longer intimidating; it was kind of fun. 

For our final paper in Writing Seminar, we were allowed to write about a topic of our choice. Given my interest in literature and what it says about us as human beings, I chose to write about the importance of nature-related children's literature during the pandemic. With the help of my professor and classmates (who I'd become so comfortable with in a matter of months), I was able to find intriguing sources and go down intriguing rabbit holes. Although I spent most of my spring finals season tucked into Firestone library, analyzing depictions of talking rabbits and bears, I was enjoying myself. The tools that I had learned in Writing Seminar allowed me to approach writing this 10-12 page paper with some ease. There were moments when I got stuck and felt unsure of where to go next while writing, but the resources of my professor, my classmates, and the Princeton Writing Center enabled me to brainstorm and move forward. By Dean's Date (the date at the end of the semester when all written academic work is due), I was beyond proud and excited to turn my paper in. I had completed Princeton's daunting Writing Seminar. And I was a little sad to leave it behind.

There are many academic beasts that Princeton students must brave on the path to obtaining their degree. However, braving this specific beast of the First-Year Writing Seminar has taught me that difficult academic obstacles are a part of the beauty of higher academia. Facing these obstacles, struggling, getting past them, and learning new things in the meantime are all part of academic growth and success. Moreover, looking back and seeing the hills you climbed to reach the next steps of your academic career makes the process all the more fulfilling. So, I'll get excited the next time I feel daunted by a step in my academic journey. I'm ready to grow.

Toward the end of my first semester at Princeton, I came to the harrowing conclusion that I could no longer study (productively) in my dorm room. 

It was the beginning of the winter reading period — a week-long interval at the end of the semester devoted wholly to producing final essays and projects and, of course, studying. I had an eight-page Modern Fiction paper to crank out. But, sitting at my messy desk, with the temptation of my warm bed calling to me from two feet away, I found that I could not type a word of this essay. So, like a good student, I stashed away my study materials into my backpack, donned my massive winter coat, and prepared myself to brave the impossibly terrifying world outside of my dorm: campus during finals season.

Let me explain: campus is not actually impossibly terrifying during finals season. It’s actually very fun and welcoming. It’s just impossibly crowded. Every formerly tranquil space becomes the opposite — dotted with students who’ve emerged from their campus crevices, with their friendly study buddies and loud conversations. Because of this reality, during reading period, despite its name, I found it almost impossible to read, or focus, or write a paper in any public space on campus. But, as my dorm proved not to be any more of a productive setting, I was forced to go on a quest. A quest in search of a place of quiet — without distractions — and full of sunlight (because I cannot study without some encouraging light). My first stop was Chancellor Green. 

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In my opinion, Chancellor Green is one of the most gorgeous libraries on campus. It shares space with the building of East Pyne — home to many of Princeton’s language and humanities departments — and has more windows than I’ll ever have time to count. I love this library because of its light. Sunshine fills every corner of it. I also love it because of its private study cubicles. The Chancellor Green library has an upper level full of single study desks. After I failed to start my daunting essay in my dorm, I was sure that the omnipresent sunshine and solitude of Chancellor Green would be the perfect ingredients for my much-needed productivity. And I was right. Sitting by a large French window, surrounded by age-old books and alone, I cranked out 2/8 pages of my paper. But, as I tried to brave the third page, I was stuck. It seemed Chancellor Green’s well of reading period productivity had run dry for the day, so I, again, braved the outside world to seek out more.

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My journey and midday hunger brought me to Frist Campus Center — home to the Frist Food Gallery (a cafeteria-esque basement level filled with snacks, a grill, a taco bar, a pasta/salad bar, an Asian food bar, and more). After securing a cheeseburger and fries for encouragement, I settled into Frist’s third-floor McGraw Center library. There, fed and encouraged by some more sunlight, I knocked out two more pages of my paper. I was feeling great about my progress and my discovery of some campus tranquility. But then came the lunch rush. More hungry students, with friendly study buddies and loud conversations, filled my study spot. It was time to disembark, again.

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My next stop was New South — a building home to Princeton’s Creative Writing Department, Princeton’s Writing Center, and many empty classrooms, just waiting to be taken advantage of. Unfortunately, upon my arrival, I discovered that other desperate students had nabbed all these classrooms. But, on the Creative Writing floor, I found an empty table with some gorgeous and encouraging overhead light to knock out the next page of my paper. At this point, I was halfway through and still feeling the momentum. As a reward for finishing another page, another student abandoned their rare gem of an empty classroom, and I promptly seized it. Here, with the gift of a blank whiteboard and a room entirely to myself, I was able to brainstorm the final pages of my paper, pacing back and forth, throwing out ideas aloud, and jotting down notes on the board. It was here that I completed the final three pages of my paper.

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With this completion under my belt, I felt brave enough to brave the monster of all study spots on campus — Firestone Library. I needed one last place to do the final edits on my paper. And I also needed a change of scenery. Firestone Library is the monster of all study-spots during reading period. The library has six levels — all stocked with large clusters of cubicles and a plethora of reading rooms where silence is mandatory. It is the motherlode of tranquil study spaces on campus. But, for a first-year still acclimating to the study culture, finding the right spot can be a little daunting. On this day, however, I was ready.

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I sent the elevator to every floor, quietly and discreetly inspecting each reading room to see which one had the most encouraging sunlight and the least daunting amount of people. I landed on the C-floor Reading Room. Nestled behind the library’s Specials Collection section, the C-floor reading room has a ceiling of windows, so sunlight reaches every corner. It also seems the quietest of all the reading rooms — even during the reading period, many people seem to ignore it or forget that it exists. For me, it was the perfect place to conclude my beast of an essay. There, I completed the majority of edits for my paper, even added an aesthetically pleasing cover page, and called it a day. Throughout my spring semester, I often returned to the study spots I found on this day-long journey for tranquility, sunlight, and productivity. I’ve found that, usually, when I’m too deep into an assignment and unsure of what to write/do next, I just need to move. Having several go-to study spots on campus allows me to circulate, and not stay in one place mentally or physically.

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I’m grateful for the opportunity to study on a campus with such a plethora of tranquil, sunlit spaces to focus, and I look forward to the study-spot discoveries that my next three years at Princeton will bring.

Work hard, play hard. It’s a phrase we’ve all heard, but is Princeton a place where “work hard, play hard” is alive and well, or perhaps, where does Princeton lie on that spectrum? Work hard, play hard. It’s a phrase we’ve all heard, but is Princeton a place where “work hard, play hard” is alive and well, or perhaps, where does Princeton lie on that spectrum? 

For starters, you often see students lock in during the week and let loose—in many forms—during the weekend. Of course, it depends on the crowd that you gravitate towards. You will meet many students who only “work hard” and only occasionally meet the opposite side of the spectrum. Princeton definitely skews closer towards the work end—not necessarily surprising for the Ivy League. 

The emphasis on work is quite apparent here. Princeton students are passionate about their studies, projects and research. That said during the school year, I’ll admit it’s often hard to feel a separation from school and life. Work often dominates my mind; it’s a priority, and so during the school year most students work, and work hard, sometimes without a second thought about a healthier life balance. Queue, the “Princetonian work ethic.”

But when Princetonians aren't plugged in for the semester, where do our priorities fall? It’s the summer of 2024 and my time off this summer has led me to wonder if this intense “work hard play hard” mentally is a healthy balance. During summer especially, I notice that I struggle when this finely tuned balance between work and play is thrown off. I struggle to enjoy time off without some sense of academic productivity. This leads me to question if Princeton wires us to chase high intensity experiences? Are all Princetonians wired this way? Is it just me?

While I haven’t found the answers to these questions yet, I find them fascinating to explore. During this summer at Princeton, I decided to survey my friends to find some answers. On the work side of the spectrum, I have two friends that come to mind who work hard, and pretty intensely. These friends sleep 4-5 hours a night and are consumed, passionately or stressfully— I’m not sure—with work, projects, and competitions. On the other side of the spectrum, I have several friends who enjoy time off without a second thought. One friend told me “tomorrow is not guaranteed,” so why consume your summer with work? 

With all these different perspectives, the real question is where do I want to lie on that spectrum? I recently realized that it’s very easy for your mindset to conform to the environment that you’re in. That may explain why so many Princetonians feel a need to work all the time: this environment is conducive to it. While I’m still trying to find my own balance between work and play, I admit that part of me is still drawn to that intense balance—partly because I feel it allows me to live life to the fullest. And that’s a theme I see at Princeton. Whether students work hard or play hard, Princetonians have a certain discipline and passion in everything they do. Life is lived to the fullest. 

And while this mentality may serve my college years, I admit that this certain binary scale may not serve me forever. Is my work ethic—my Princetonian Work Ethic—a lifelong thing? I’m not sure. Maybe the wiser of us knows the answer, but all I know is that I’m going to live life to the fullest. Whether that's work, play, or something else, the only thing I can do is keep trying to figure it out. 

3,853 miles away. Six hours ahead. A city I’ll never forget: Copenhagen, Denmark.

This past spring, I spent four months studying abroad in one of the most beautiful cities I've ever visited. However, there was one challenge: I had to complete my spring junior paper (JP) while also trying to explore this amazing city.

Completing a junior paper is challenging enough when you're on Princeton’s campus. My fall JP was not the easiest paper to write, but at least I was surrounded by students also engaged in their research or independent projects. 

Abroad, people traveled every weekend, and I constantly struggled to balance this incredible opportunity with my commitments at Princeton. I had lab meetings every Wednesday, and due to the time difference, they were scheduled for 11 PM local time. This time difference made it really difficult to set up meetings or call people.

For my fall JP, I conducted a literature review on First Generation Low Income Students from Latinx and Asian backgrounds, exploring themes such as cultural mismatch, stereotype threat and family achievement guilt. I found a notable gap in the literature concerning the differences in experiences between two-year and four-year institutions, with most empirical studies focusing on selective four-year universities.

My spring JP was centered on creating a pre-registration for my upcoming thesis research. Pre-registration, a growing practice in psychology, aims to promote transparency, reduce p-hacking and address the replication crisis. My task was to submit a pre-registration form along with a codebook detailing the survey items I intended to measure. This process demanded significant time and effort. I had to clearly define my research goals and outline how I planned to analyze the data.

Fortunately, I had an amazing mentor, my lab manager, Danny. We met weekly to discuss my progress, clarify any questions about the pre-registration process and offer edits and suggestions. Being part of a lab while conducting independent work is one of the best aspects of the process. You not only have your primary advisor but also the support of knowledgeable lab members in various research areas. The support I received from my lab made submitting my JP abroad something manageable. 

Overall, despite the difficulties, submitting my spring JP was one of the most rewarding experiences. I grew significantly from the process, setting a strong foundation for my senior thesis, which I'll be working on over the summer. Although Danny is leaving soon to pursue a PhD in Utah, his mentorship is a testament to the incredible people at Princeton. The ARC lab team made 3,853 miles feel not so far away.

Unexplained chronic pain turned my life upside down in October 2023. I soon found myself staying overnight at McCosh Health Center, and asking some of my friends to help with basic tasks like doing laundry. 

It wasn't until winter break that I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia: a chronic illness characterized by "widespread pain throughout the body...[chronic] fatigue...and problems concentrating also known as fibro fog" (niams.nih.gov). 

Though I'm always in pain, I'd like to share ways that I've been able to manage it at Princeton. Let's get into it!

1. Requesting accommodations

For students who need academic, housing, dining, or testing accommodations, they must fill out the Office of Disability Services' online form. They also must provide medical documents explaining how their disability impairs their functioning, and how accommodations would improve their functioning. 

I found it vulnerable to disclose my chronic illness to ODS, but I remembered to not hold back in my application. I was as honest as possible, because I know myself better than anybody else.

I know, for instance, that going up and down stairs is difficult for me. So Forbes College was no longer accessible to me, because the Annex does not have elevators. Next year I will be living on the first floor of an upperclassman dorm building that is much closer to my classes. 

2. Communicating with professors. 

ODS requires students to submit Semester Request forms to notify professors about approved accommodations. 

While I'm not required to disclose my chronic illness, I find it helpful to give my professors more context about Fibromyalgia during office hours. This is especially the case considering that I have frequent flare ups. Flare ups occur when chronic illness symptoms worsen for a few days.

Again it takes courage to open up to your professors about chronic illness. It may be easier to hide behind a screen, typing about why you need to miss class or receive an extension on an assignment. However, I have found it very valuable to meet with my professors in person, so everybody is on the same page. 

3. Getting lots of rest

Fibromyalgia comes with chronic fatigue, as I mentioned before. No amount of sleep can remedy that symptom, but the paradox is that if I don't get enough sleep, I'll flare up incessantly. 

When creating my course schedules, I make sure to leave plenty of gaps in between my classes. This way, I can make time to not only complete homework, but also take naps during the day. And since I am an early bird, I make sure to go to bed consistently between 11:00 PM and 2:00 AM. 

On the other hand, rest doesn't always look like sleeping. Some days it looks like drawing and journaling. Other days it looks like doing my readings from bed. I listen to what my body wants to do, and go with the flow. After all, I can't pour from an empty cup.

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One of the best hidden gems I have discovered during my time at Princeton is the Makerspace! Located in the basement of the Lewis Library, the Makerspace is a creative technology space which serves as part of Princeton’s library system. The Makerspace provides many different forms of equipment such as 3D printers, sewing machines, 3D scanners, cutting machines, large format printers, video production equipment, and so much more!

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I first discovered the Makerspace in my Sophomore year, after taking a podcasting class, during which I borrowed audio-recording equipment from the Digital Learning Lab. Fascinated by the technology that was made available to me, I eagerly inquired about other creative spaces that were available to students. It was then that I was referred to the Makerspace, and discovered all that it had to offer. 

In the second semester of Sophomore year, I would regularly borrow a DSLR Camera from the Makerspace to photograph Princeton’s cycling team during bike races. Over time, I was able to hone my photography and editing skills, as I learned how to use the equipment. My favorite discovery at the Makerspace, however, was the 4x3-foot Large Format Printer. These printers, which are available for students for one large print job per month, enable me to print out large-scale artistic creations at no cost.

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In my Junior year, I took a wonderful class which merged scientific teaching with artistic expression. For our final project, we were tasked with creating an artistic piece to express a scientific issue that we had researched. My group took advantage of the resources of the Makerspace to create a 6x8-foot collage detailing the adversarial health impacts of pesticide use. Dividing our collage into quadrants, each corresponding to one large-print poster, we were able to create a grand exhibition for our project, which is now on display at the Lewis Center for the Arts. It was so rewarding to present such a magnificent project knowing that we were supported in bringing our ambitious ideas into a tangible reality.

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Learning about the resources that Princeton offers to students has been an ongoing component of my experiences here. It feels like every month, I learn of something new that is available to me as a student. I hope that new students are likewise able to take advantage of the Makerspace and bring their creative visions to life!  

Amor Fati. It means “love of one’s fate” in Latin. 

While a phrase I’ve studied well through stoicism, I’ve unexpectedly come across this phrase again through a conversation with a friend. It’s made me reflective about my time here at Princeton, and my “love of fate” thus far.

So where am I on my Princeton journey? I’m currently writing this blog post at 11:18pm on May 1st, 2024 - it’s the start of reading week which means a tremendous amount of work for most students here. My days recently have been void of classes yet filled with the slow and often frustrating pace of studying. It’s the end of my sophomore year, and the only word I can use to describe this year would be: unpredictable. 

This year has been filled with struggles I never encountered during my freshman year. My COS (Computer Science) classes have gotten harder. I’ve started to have more anxiety. Socially too, friends and groups have shifted. And that’s not something I expected - however it is part of fate that things change.

All of this is to say that my sophomore year has been overwhelming, and quite the contrast to the blooming, beautiful first year when I arrived at Princeton. I thrived my first year - socially and academically. Initially, this dichotomy between my freshman and sophomore year worried me. I wondered: “Am I not enjoying my time here?” “Am I getting the most out of Princeton?” 

I share this because I’m sure many students feel this way. But my perspective changed when I remembered the words of an alum that I heard during my orientation two years ago.

“Everyone moves through Princeton at their own pace, and on their own path.”

It is normal for things to change. And it’s normal for your path at Princeton to look vastly different from your friends, or even the path that you had the year before. It’s important to remember that Princeton will be unpredictable. You will likely face challenges you didn’t even conceive of facing. And that’s okay! I don’t actually believe in “fate”, but I believe in it as a general concept of the things given to you outside of your control. I find myself grateful for the fate I’ve been given at Princeton - whether the experience was positive or negative. And that is Amor Fati. A true love of one’s fate - a love for the good and the bad that happens. Because from each of these experiences, I’m given an opportunity to grow. And with this, I hope any incoming students can take something from my perspective. That the challenges you will face are valid and unexpected. But you must embrace it all, and simply go along on this wild ride.

Access to the top can mean a variety of things; in this case, it means being able to speak with industry leaders. 

Princeton is home to a wide variety of opportunities, from study abroad and internships to performances and art shows. It is truly hard, if not impossible, to find a resource or opportunity that Princeton does not support. There are always super cool opportunities taking place each week. My favorite way to stay updated is via Princeton University’s instagram account where they make a story post at the start of the week informing everyone about campus events. Outside of these, I have found student organized events to be my favorite. 

This past semester I was granted the opportunity to become the Vice President of Professional Development for the club Scholars of Finance. The club focuses on promoting education and ethical practices within the finance industry. My role is to plan, promote, and execute events for the ‘Speaker Series.’ The focus of these events is to bring leaders in the finance industry to give talks available to the club and Princeton community. Just this year, we have hosted CEO’s and other C-suite executives from firms like Morgan Stanley, BlackRock, and Goldman Sachs, among others. These opportunities are hosted in a small to medium group setting and allow for direct access to these speakers. Being able to talk with successful individuals about your career aspirations and what advice they may have is truly invaluable. 

When I first came to Princeton, I could never have imagined the opportunity to connect with these types of leaders. Something I found out very quickly was that this is a regular thing here. The ability to network and connect with these individuals is truly unparalleled. Their overall willingness to help you out is also something that was unexpected. My original perspective was that a CEO would not respond to me or make the time to meet. Boy was I wrong. While certain people may be hard to reach out to/ get in touch with, generally speaking, people will make an effort to connect with you if you approach them. My advice is to not be afraid and be respectful. You never know how far a simple conversation can take you! 

In addition to clubs, the Center for Career Development hosts numerous networking/ information events with leading companies across many industries. I have personally gone to a lot of the finance/consulting ones, which have been super helpful in my career aspirations. While this happens at other schools, I wholeheartedly believe that Princeton does it best. Between club speaker events and the Center for Career Development, Princeton builds connections for students of all interests. 

As I reached the conclusion of writing my thesis, it was time to begin the exciting process of printing and binding it! In my department, it's traditional to present a bound copy to your advisor and an unbound copy to your second reader. I also wanted a copy for myself, so I ordered two printed theses and printed an unbound copy at Frist Campus Center.

There were more printing decisions to make than I initially anticipated. To begin, I headed to the Princeton Pequod website to place my order for the goldstamping (cover) and interior pages. Among the covers, I could select Traditional Hard Binding (most expensive but classic option), Laserfoil Suede Hard Binding (similar and slightly less expensive), or one of three soft cover options. At the Pequod printing center on campus, I was able to view examples of each of the cover types. I liked the Laserfoil Suede option best.

Then I could choose the paper type, which ranged from the budget "Regular White" to the pricey "100% Cotton Bright White," as well as which pages, if any, I wanted printed in color. I decided to go with the intermediate "25% Cotton Bright White," and I opted for the $10 upgrade to have four rather than three title lines so that my complete title would print. Printing a thesis is a bit like buying a car, in that the list price can really rise once you start selecting the add-ons...

The thesis printing service is surprisingly fast. Goldstamping must be ordered 24 hours ahead of time, but the interior pages can be ordered up until 9:00 a.m. on the thesis due date. To account for any printing mishaps or other potential delays, I printed my thesis on the Thursday before the Monday due date. I placed my order for both goldstamping and the pages at around 10 a.m., and it was ready for pickup by 2:00 p.m. On Monday morning I'll deliver a copy to my advisor, Professor Bourg, and I'll deliver the unbound copy for my second reader to my department's main office.

This marks the official end of my undergraduate thesis, but not yet of the research project—I'm working with my advisor to submit it to an academic journal, so I'll continue refining the manuscript in the coming weeks. The printing was an important milestone nonetheless, and I'm pleased with the final product!

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This past fall semester of my junior year, I was able to take my first ever class in the Visual Arts (VIS, for short) Department. Two of my best friends at Princeton are pursuing the VIS certificate and always raved about their classes. As someone interested in the arts, I knew I just had to take at least one VIS course before I graduated.

Now, VIS classes are infamously known for being hard to get a spot in. They tend to be capped at only 10 to 12 students each in order to ensure an intimate learning environment. Luckily, I was able to snag a spot in VIS216: Graphic Design: Visual Form!

Taught by Professor David Reinfurt, the course was absolutely everything I wanted and more. It was so refreshing to have a class that was hands-on and project-based, especially to balance out my very reading and writing-intensive curriculum for my concentration.

One of my favorite assignments was when we were tasked with coming up with two new symbols that were meant to represent “stop” and “go.” We had to think outside of the box and figure out how we could communicate these definitions, without relying on the usual colors of red and green or the octagonal shape of a stop sign. I ultimately came up with the two symbols below:

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Can you tell which is which? I hope so! I genuinely enjoyed creating these and seeing what else my peers came up with. Throughout the semester, we also got to learn the basics of using Adobe Illustrator and Photoshop, how to make animated GIFs, as well as how to present our ideas during class critiques.

Our final project was to reimagine the recycling symbol and system. Over the course of four weeks or so, we each brainstormed solutions to the recycling crisis, graphically or otherwise. I especially appreciated how open the project prompt was because it didn’t tie us to any one medium. I ended up designing an incentivized app similar to Fetch, where you could scan a QR code on recyclables to earn points and redeem rewards! I was really excited about my idea, and during our final critique, Professor Reinfurt brought in several of his colleagues to listen to our presentations and offer us feedback. Their insight and advice were invaluable.

Reflecting back now that the semester has ended, VIS216 was an incredible experience! Even though I wouldn’t consider myself to be the most artistically inclined person, I’m super grateful that I had the opportunity to take this class. I’d highly encourage anyone with even an inkling of interest in art to try a VIS course. The department is made up of renowned faculty, there are tons of facilities and resources available to students, and it’s ultimately fun to have a class that lets you think a little differently than classes for your concentration. Take advantage of all that VIS has to offer!