Princeton prides itself in offering a multitude of study abroad and travel options, and making those as accessible to everyone as possible.  While COVID-19 has suspended most travel, I find myself reminiscing about past trips, including one university-sponsored trip I took just last year.

My freshman seminar course, FRS 161, was a geosciences course taught by Frederik Simons and Adam Maloof.  Over the course of the semester, we were to work with climate data and MATLAB to explore how climate change affected Italian olive orchards, even spending our fall break in Italy gathering data in the field.  Of course, I jumped at the chance for free travel and worked hard on my application to the class.  To my surprise, I got in, even though I had no programming experience and admittedly struggled with science.  I later found out that Adam and Frederik had read all of our essays personally, and selected a group they thought would be enthusiastic and hard working.  I can attest to the hard-working part — a year later, and I still count that class as the hardest one I have ever taken.  

However, I was sure all the long nights spent at my computer would be worth it once the lab portion of the class came along.  While most Princeton students spent the last day of fall midterms preparing to visit home or sleeping off the late nights studying, I spent it frantically packing my duffel bag and racing to the bus our class would take to the airport.  A bus ride and a plane flight later, I was blinking in the late-morning sun in Naples, Italy, the warmth on my skin in stark contrast to the air-conditioned flight or the chilly October morning I had left behind in New Jersey.   

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Over the course of the eight days FRS 161 spent in Italy, we drove along the beautiful Amalfi coast, collected data from three different olive orchards (where we were welcomed with open arms and presented with gifts of olive oil), visited historic Pompeii and majestic Mt. Vesuvius and shared pasta with our hosts at an Italian monastery.  This was no vacation — we were in the orchards from nearly sun up to sundown, and spent nights doing data entry and modeling.  I recall hours spent calling out pH readings for my classmates to record as we worked by flashlight and headlamp late into the night.  But I also recall running into the cold ocean at the end of a long hike, gleefully grabbing all of the gas station snacks I didn’t recognize from home, and finding stray cats wandering among the ruins of Pompeii.

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Although the days of international travel and unmasked gatherings seem so far away, scrolling through the old photos reminds me that there was a time before this, and there will be a time after.  I eagerly await the day when I can once again apply for Princeton courses that promise international adventure!

The senior thesis is the capstone project of your Princeton career: it’s normally between 80 and 120 pages, and is an opportunity at once to explore an academic passion and to produce original academic research. It’s also a huge time commitment for seniors. Many seniors begin work — oftentimes, after receiving summer research grants or fellowships — on their theses shortly after their junior year. Procrastinating types often wait until later in the fall (or occasionally, until the new year) to get started.

This year is a little bit different for seniors, and for their theses. The travel grants that so many students look forward to receiving each year, which often afford them the opportunity to journey across the country or abroad to conduct first-hand research for their thesis, were unilaterally canceled due to COVID-19. The vast majority of seniors also don’t have the opportunity to work with their advisers in person; instead, that communication is happening largely over email. Many students who had hoped to work in laboratories have had to revise their thesis plans so that research can be conducted at home. And being off-campus for the fall has meant students don’t have access to libraries and study spaces where, just a year ago, it was common to see seniors, surrounded by books, typing away on their capstone projects. 

But students and the University are adapting. My department, Politics, has worked hard to keep digital research funding available for seniors wherever possible, even if the pandemic has stolen much of the fun from its use. My thesis adviser and I have met over Zoom, and I’m excited and well prepared to begin my work. The University Library has stepped into overdrive, responding to student requests for scanned volumes and access to digital resources normally unavailable to off-campus students.

The senior thesis holds near-mythic status at Princeton; writing one is an experience shared by nearly all Princeton alumni, and many graduates cite it as the most fulfilling endeavor of their academic career. Writing a thesis is a way for seniors to explore future projects and career paths: Wendy Kopp, a member of Princeton’s Class of 1989, laid the framework for Teach for America, which she would go on to found, in her thesis. And, as is the case with most things, it would be impossible to argue the experience of piecing together a thesis will be quite the same this year. But I’ve been heartened by the way students, the faculty, and the University have come together to provide support for seniors in the home stretch of our Princeton careers.

Even before I arrived at Princeton, I knew that I wanted to study abroad. I have always been curious about travel and experiencing new languages and cultures. My initial plan was to study abroad in a Spanish-speaking country. I had studied Spanish throughout high school and was keenly interested in the culture and history of Spanish-speaking countries around the world. That said, my academic interests shifted and I decided to concentrate in Near Eastern Studies (NES). 

An essential part of the NES concentration involves studying the languages of the Middle East. As a result, after my first year, I used Princeton funding to travel to Israel to study Hebrew. I had an incredible experience and went back during winter break of sophomore year to continue my studies and then secured a summer job in Tel Aviv. After two language study abroad experiences and a summer spent working abroad, I thought that I would not want to go abroad for another semester. Studying abroad for a semester can seem intimidating. Not only do you have to manage the cultural differences that come with living and studying in another country, but you also must be prepared to leave behind your friends, activities, classes and everything else that feels familiar and safe about Princeton. 

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However, as I entered my junior year, I was offered an incredible chance to study abroad again — this time not in the Middle East but at SOAS University of London, a specialty school for Middle East studies. While it was tough leaving Princeton, I decided to put myself outside my comfort zone and had an amazing experience. Ultimately, while my semester abroad was cut short due to COVID-19, I am still grateful for the opportunity to have the experience.

While being abroad meant that I missed out on certain aspects of Princeton, it also meant that I got to have experiences that I never would have had inside the "Orange Bubble." I was able to pick from a wide variety of classes related to the study of the Middle East and be surrounded by a large cohort of like-minded peers. I had the chance to hone my language skills, live in a city and experience all of the vibrancy of city life London has to offer. I was joined by exchange students from all over Europe and the world. Some of my favorite memories are of late nights spent singing songs with my new friends, switching between English, German, Norwegian, Italian and more.

Finally, one of the most meaningful elements of my study abroad was the learning I got to do outside of the classroom. I did some of my research for my junior independent work in Oxford and Cambridge, and enjoyed seeing the incredible architecture of Scotland on a weekend trip to Edinburgh. I took the train around Europe — visiting the Swiss Alps, walking the streets of Paris and hanging out on the beach in Barcelona. I even managed to make it to Australia on one of our longer breaks from school. For someone who loves traveling, these experiences were truly priceless. 

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All in all, I am beyond grateful for the study abroad experiences that I have had during my time at Princeton. Each one has helped to show me the extent to which Princeton offers every student the opportunity to engage in learning in a variety of meaningful ways.

A couple days after my admission to Princeton, I opened my mailbox to find a thick orange envelope. Inside were a series of pamphlets and flyers that would prepare me for my time at Princeton, discussing everything from student life to the Novogratz Bridge Year Program. After poring through those materials, and the University’s corresponding online resources, I came away with two key impressions. The first was that Princetonians really love the color orange (it’s true!). The second was that students really care about research. 

Even after looking online, I couldn’t truly picture what “research” might mean for a student like me. I knew I was interested in social sciences and the humanities, and I’d always imagined “researchers” wearing white coats and goggles at the National Institutes of Health (NIH).  It wasn’t until my writing seminar at Princeton — a mandatory class for first-year students that introduces a variety of research methods and principles — that I got a grasp of what academic research outside of the scientific disciplines might look like. Even then, as I was reading through and analyzing academic articles at a new, rigorous level, I wasn’t sure how I was ever going to come up with a topic to research myself. How was I, a public school kid from the suburbs, going to come up with an original research topic with academic merit?

I’ll let you in on a secret: it’s not as hard as you think. Every student at Princeton is required to produce a senior thesis as well as independent work during their junior year. What all that work has in common is that it represents an exploration of something each student is passionate about. As you declare your concentration (our word for major) as a sophomore and delve into your chosen field, you’ll discover with your professors that there are myriad questions left unanswered in your discipline’s literature. There is so much we don’t know! And there’s no way you won’t be curious about it. Many incoming students are under the misguided belief that their independent work has to be revolutionary somehow — that their findings have to be game-changers if they want to get an A or the respect of their professors. What they inevitably find, however, is that academic progress is oftentimes made up of minute contributions to larger questions. It’s bit by bit that many of society’s biggest questions are answered. It’s your job as a researcher to add another piece to the puzzle. 

Princeton is a community of student researchers. That really does include every student — no student has ever graduated without turning in a research project. And don’t worry, there’s no chance you’ll be the first. Research can seem daunting, especially to students in disciplines not typically associated with “research.” But it’s nowhere near as nerve-wracking as you think, and the curiosity you’ll develop as a Princeton student will leave you with many more leads than you could ever research. 

I’m a tour guide with Orange Key, Princeton’s student tour guide service. Other than “What is your most commonly asked question?” the question I am most frequently asked is about the different kinds of classes required for Princeton students. It makes sense: coming from high school, where courses for students are mostly pre-determined, many students are itching for the opportunity to take courses in subjects they’re passionate about. Oftentimes, students aren’t excited about a potential new slate of mandatory classes. 

My answer is always the same: there’s only one required class at Princeton, but even that is largely up to you. Every student has to take a Writing Seminar, a semester-long course that teaches students to formulate researchable questions in preparation for junior and senior independent work. Not every writing seminar is the same, however. After being assigned to either the fall or spring semester, students are sent a list of the different seminar options to choose from. Usually, these fall into clear interest areas: seminars offered this semester include “The Future of Food” and “Justice Beyond Borders.” The customizable nature of the writing seminar tailors even this required class to student interests.

Princeton’s set of distribution requirements also affects students’ course choices. These are different for students in the Bachelor of Arts (A.B.) and Bachelor of Science in Engineering (B.S.E.) programs. Students enrolled in A.B. programs — which I describe to my tour groups as “(A)nything (B)ut” Engineering — must take ten courses of their choosing across seven different broad ‘distributions,’ in addition to achieving proficiency in a foreign language. These distributions include categories like “Social Analysis,” which covers everything from psychology to politics to journalism. For B.S.E. students — our engineers — the situation is a bit different. In addition to general math and science courses relevant to their chosen disciplines, engineering students must take four classes among the non-quantitative distribution areas.

I tell my tour groups that I think Princeton’s distribution requirement system captures the best of both worlds. On one hand, it clearly frees you from the monotony of high school classes: with the exception of the customizable Writing Seminar, there’s nothing you have to take. I didn’t want to see math in college, and aside from a Politics-y statistics course, I haven’t! But the distribution requirements also push you out of your comfort zone: I’ve taken classes on everything from bridges to audio journalism (complete with an expenses-paid trip to Alabama and Mississippi) in fulfillment of my distribution requirements, and they’ve allowed me to enjoy disciplines I never dreamed I would.

Independent work is a defining feature of Princeton’s undergraduate education. Juniors get the opportunity to conduct their own research under the guidance of a faculty adviser, serving as a precursor to the senior thesis. While some conduct archival research, others participate in field-based research, even traveling abroad to collect data. 

As a history concentrator, I write one research paper per semester, known as the Junior Paper. My seminar, “Slave Emancipation in Latin America,” introduced me to the tools, methods and techniques of historical research in preparation for the Junior Paper. I received guidance from my professor through every step of the process, all the way from topic selection to draft submissions. 

Although the writing process was daunting at first, I enjoyed getting to read primary sources and draw my own interpretations based on the work of other historians. It was the first time I truly felt like a historian, perusing scores of books in the Firestone Library basement. Out of all of the skills I acquired, working independently on a long-term project proved to be indispensable. In order to turn in the paper before the deadline, I set a daily goal of how many pages I would write or the number of sources I needed to annotate. 

Independent research at Princeton gave me the opportunity to bond with a faculty adviser, discover an interest in the historiography of slavery and learn how to incorporate evidence to strengthen my argument. All in all, the experience of writing my first Junior Paper was extremely rewarding.

The senior thesis. What is it? Where did it come from? Why do I have to do it?

You might be asking yourself these questions. Maybe you’re waiting to hear back from the Office of Admission and you just read about the thesis online. Maybe you’ve already been admitted, and the thesis is making you question whether or not you want to matriculate. If you only remember one thing from this post, I hope it is this: don’t let the thought of a thesis scare you!

Almost every student at Princeton has to write a senior thesis in order to graduate. It’s basically just a long(er) research paper on a topic of your choice. Since most students have to write one, pretty much everyone will be familiar with the process at some point during their Princeton career. This means that you are never struggling through it alone.

When I was a prospective student, I remember being a little intimidated by the senior thesis. I had never written something so long in my life! I had no idea where to even begin. However, as the semesters started flying by, my interests began solidifying themselves, and it became apparent to me what I wanted to focus on at Princeton: a combination of policy, the criminal-legal system and race/discrimination.

Once you know what you are interested in, choosing a thesis topic becomes much easier. I knew I wanted to go to law school after Princeton and I’ve always been interested in criminal justice reform. So, I made sure to choose a topic that encompassed all of that! I applied for funding from the Woodrow Wilson School⁠—the department I’m majoring in⁠—and planned a trip to Norway. While there, I spent two days at a men’s maximum-security facility in order to learn about their prison system. I conducted interviews, took pictures and observed the individuals who have been incarcerated along with the staff (read this post to learn more about my thesis!). Honestly, it didn’t even feel like work⁠—since it’s a topic I’m genuinely interested in, I really enjoyed the research.

I think that’s the key to conquering your senior thesis: make sure you choose a topic that you are genuinely interested in, and the research won’t feel so much like work. Keeping this in mind, don’t let the senior thesis scare you. As a senior, I feel so much support from my classmates, since I know they’re going through the same process. I’m excited to see the final product of all my hard work and I’m so glad I didn’t let it scare me away from committing to Princeton!

If you ask anyone on Princeton’s campus what the most daunting Princeton experience is, they’ll probably tell you it’s the senior thesis. Some students look forward to it, others dread it. Once spring rolls around and those thesis deadlines start creeping closer and closer, you start seeing fewer seniors on campus, as many of them are locked away in their rooms or in the library, trying their best to meet their deadlines. No matter the opinion, the thesis ends up getting done, somehow.

Despite it being a shared experience among Princeton seniors, the senior thesis seems like a far-away concept that is often hard to understand as a non-senior. During my junior year, my department⁠—the Woodrow Wilson School⁠ of Public and International Affairs—hosted a few information sessions about the upcoming thesis, but I remember leaving the meetings wholly unsatisfied and with lingering questions. How was I supposed to fit all that research into a couple of months?

Finally, I went to an information session about funding for thesis research. There, I learned that students in the Woodrow Wilson School have the opportunity to receive funding for their thesis research after filling out an extensive application. Among other things, the application includes a description of your thesis project and research, as well as an itemized list of your anticipated expenses.

At first, I was worried because there were so many students at that information session. How would there be enough funding for everybody? However, after speaking with seniors at the time, I quickly learned that most students do not start their research until they get back on campus. With this in mind, I submitted an application and was excited to learn that I had gotten the money I asked for!

Thanks to the Woodrow Wilson School and its funding program, I was able to complete my senior thesis research in Norway during the summer. The purpose of my trip was to visit Halden Prison, a maximum-security men’s prison in southern Norway, in order to learn about the Norwegian prison system and compare it to the American prison system. While there, I spent a day with the warden, learning about the culture of the prison and touring the entire facility. I also spent a day interviewing guards and incarcerated individuals.

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Of course, my trip wasn’t only educational! I also found time to get away and do three incredible hikes⁠—Preikestolen, Kjeragbolten, and Trolltunga⁠—and eat amazing food.

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My time in Norway was extremely valuable, and I am excited to continue my thesis research on campus!

Princeton University. A wonderful place filled with opportunities to take advantage of and organizations to get involved with. One of the most salient aspects of Princeton is this idea of an Orange Bubble, which shields and protects us from the outside world. For me, the Bubble was so strong my first two years that I had no clue what was happening outside FitzRandolph Gate unless I purposefully read or watched the news. Although it makes me feel safe and at home, the Orange Bubble surrounds us with privilege and has the potential to blind us from seeing other aspects of life.

The Petey Greene Program has been my temporary, weekly escape from the Orange Bubble. Petey Greene is one of my all-time favorite groups I’ve gotten involved with at Princeton so far. Each week volunteers tutor incarcerated students to help them earn their GED.

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I joined Petey Greene during my sophomore year at Princeton, and I have not yet missed a single session. I always look forward to that 25-minute van ride with people I now consider friends, and I look forward to the tutoring itself. Petey Greene has opened my eyes to experiences and people I never would have encountered elsewhere in life, and I am grateful. Volunteer work was a huge part of my life in high school, and I struggled to make time for it at Princeton. Now, for a few hours every Friday, I get to help people reach their academic goals, despite the adversity they face.

Petey Greene has also influenced me academically. As a concentrator in the Woodrow Wilson School, I am required to conduct research and write two Junior Papers (one per semester) during my junior year, in preparation for my senior thesis. I chose to write my first Junior Paper on the treatment of incarcerated pregnant women in New York prisons, and my second Junior Paper is about mass incarceration in the United States.

Although I love the homey feeling I get from the Orange Bubble, I am endlessly grateful for organizations like Petey Greene that bring me outside of Princeton’s walls and enable me to help others.

Alice fell down a rabbit hole to get into Wonderland. Dorothy rode a tornado to Oz. I took a Writing Seminar to discover the world of academia. When you think about it, we share the same journey: an innocent protagonist (that would be me) is transported to a strange land where excitement, adventures and danger await and, eventually, returns to the real world relatively unscathed and hopefully wiser.

I took my Writing Seminar, or Writing Sem as we call it, in the spring of my first year, which gave me ample opportunity to hear the entire range of praises sung and groans issued by my peers who took it in the fall. When it came time for my first seminar meeting, I collected the required materials, printed out the readings and entered with both hope and misgiving.

As it turned out, I enjoyed the class greatly. The instructor was captivating, commuted in from New York twice a week and he taught an equally captivating class with great enthusiasm for the material. Through conferences with him and my classmates, chalkboard dissections of various arguments and positions and fruitful harvests of academic articles to challenge and defend, I developed the skills needed to engage in scholarly work. If you’ll permit one more reference to children’s literature, consider the Pevensie children, who were transported by wardrobe to the snowy country of Narnia. In the middle of their adventure, they are met by Father Christmas, who presents them with personal gifts to aid them in their journey. Like Father Christmas, my Writing Sem provided me with tools -- tools I needed to thrive as a new university student beginning to engage with the voluminous and curious world of academia.

While I have learned more about academic writing since taking the course, Writing Sem set the foundation for my written work at Princeton. Coming to the University, I didn’t expect to feel comfortable writing about Locke’s view of the wage-labor relationship (for Writing Sem), defenses of pacifism (an ethics course) and the American executive branch as a policy maker (a politics course), but I have done all of those things now. And more than that, I’ve enjoyed them, too.