My four years at Princeton are flying by, and there are so many classes I would love to take if I had more time. If I listed them all, it would probably be the length of a senior thesis, so here’s a selection of my top 7:

1. Making an Exoneree (Department: School of Public and International Affairs)

   Making an Exoneree is one of the most unique courses I have ever come across. The course was started by a professor at Georgetown University who helped to exonerate a childhood friend who spent almost 18 years in prison for a crime he did not commit. An intensive, hands-on course, students have contributed to freeing three wrongfully convicted individuals since its inception at Princeton in 2018. Students describe the course as "life-changing... If you want a real look into the criminal legal system and care deeply about justice, then this course is something you absolutely should take during your time at Princeton."

   

2. International Organizations (Department: Politics)

   Taught by Professor Vreeland, an expert in international political economy, International Organizations has quickly become one of the most popular courses at Princeton, with enrollment exceeding the 400-person cap every semester it is offered. The course examines the origins, effectiveness, and future of institutions from the UN and WHO to the European Union and African Development Bank. I had to see what the buzz was about and sat in on a lecture during shopping period last spring, and I would have given an arm and a leg to take the class. Professor Vreeland was an extremely engaging lecturer, making memorable references to popular songs and movies, and keeping students on their toes by asking for participation using a random name selector. He also cares deeply about students inside and outside of the classroom and regularly publicizes and attends students’ performances. This course review says it all: "Professor Vreeland teaches you how to read, how to think, and how to learn at a fundamental level. He's the quintessential educator: a professor who wants his students to learn for the sake of learning and knows exactly how to motivate them and work with them. You should not leave Princeton without taking this course." What a shame I’ll have to do so!

   

3. Poverty, by America (Departments: Sociology and African American Studies): 

   I still remember reading Evicted on a sunny afternoon during a summer in junior high and the impression it left on me of the challenges of facing housing insecurity. I was impressed to discover that the author, Matthew Desmond, had spent a year living among the eight families featured in order to write the book. When a friend told me that she worked with Professor Desmond in the Eviction Lab at Princeton and was taking a class taught by him, I knew it would be among the top on my wishlist.

4. The Great Russian Novel and Beyond (Department: Slavic Languages and Literatures)

   I love to read (send me an email if you have any book recommendations!). Last fall, I was looking for a literature course to fulfill my remaining literature and the arts distribution requirement and a good friend of mine (who was actually my Community Action orientation leader) recommended this introduction to Russian literature. I enrolled in the course and discovered that it was a hidden gem tucked away among the many interesting literature classes available at Princeton. Professor Chances clearly loves the books, and I was eager to learn about famous and lesser known works of Russian literature in a small class setting. The weekly precept (small group discussion) was led by Professor Chances and only had four students! Unfortunately, I had never read any of the books before so I was having trouble keeping up with the reading. I made the difficult decision to drop the course at the end of the second week, known as add/drop or shopping period. I was able to borrow the books for the semester through the University library, so I hope to finish Fathers and Children and read Anna Karenina once classes end.

5. Beginner’s American Sign Language (Department: Linguistics)

   Princeton began offering for-credit ASL courses in 2018 which could be used to fulfill the foreign language requirement starting in 2021. I would love to learn a language which uses a completely different part of my brain, gain a better understanding of deaf culture, and think about how we can increase accessibility for individuals who are hard of hearing. Former blogger Naomi wrote a wonderful post about learning ASL three years ago which makes me want to at least shop ASL101 in the fall.

6. Princeton University Steel Band (Department: Music)

   Steel Band is another popular course in which students learn how to play the steelpan, an instrument originating from Trinidad and Tobago with a beautifully resonant sound. The course is P/D/F only, which means students receive a “pass”, “D”, or “fail” for the course, removing the stress of receiving a good grade (read more in Jocelyne’s blog post about P/D/F classes). Almost every review reads, “Take this course!” and one student commented that they’ll be talking about it for many years after Princeton. Although I won’t be able to fit it into my schedule, I plan on attending the class performance at the end of April which will also feature the student steelpan ensemble TigerChunes, led by one of my friends!

   

   

7. Practical Ethics (Departments: Center for Human Values and Philosophy)

   Last but not least, I wish I could have taken Practical Ethics, which discusses topics ranging from abortion to the ethics of what we eat, and actually made my Outdoor Action co-leader become vegetarian. Taught by Professor Peter Singer, author of a number of fascinating books including Animal Liberation and The Life You Can Save, students praised the application of different ethical theories to real-world issues and Professor Singer as an “excellent lecturer, speaker, and arguer.” Unfortunately, the course is no longer offered following Professor Singer’s retirement in 2023, but I hope he will return to give an occasional lecture!

   Honorable mentions include: 

8. Analog Photography, or any course in the Visual Arts department
9. The Glass Class, a freshman seminar on the science and art of glass which travels to Venice over the break!

Clearly, I could go on. Princeton offers a wide array of unique courses which stretch students in different ways, whether by learning a new language on campus or abroad, engaging with community members and organizations, or simply discussing topics and authors you had never heard of before. As my time at Princeton comes to a close next semester, I am grateful to have had access to scholars, professors, and students who continue to stimulate my intellectual curiosity and teach me something new every day.

One of my favorite pastimes is going for a walk around campus. Regardless of whatever is going on, I have found that a stroll through campus is always nice, never failing to present me with an opportunity to notice features I never had before and to take some time to reflect. 

As I go on each walk, I get to appreciate all of my surroundings. Outside Henry Hall, which sits along Blair Walk, there is a stone engraving of George Washington crossing the Delaware — it may seem kind of random but is very cool and intricate! I discovered this engraving pretty early on in the school year, so anytime I made my Blair Walk trek to my Writing Seminar in New South last semester, I tried to remember to give Washington a shout-out :). You may have also noticed there are two tigers forming the frame of Washington’s Crossing, so I cannot forget to mention all the engraved tigers across campus. Certain entrance doors to McCosh Hall and 1879 Hall have engravings of tigers that are engaging in a variety of activities, from roaring and prowling around to sleeping, and there are 100+-year-old tigers that welcome those who walk under the archway of Campbell Hall. However, tigers continue to dominate their architectural presence apart from engravings, as there is also a tiger weathervane at the top of each corner of Holder Tower. These are only a few of many small details I have observed from my walks, but I will leave it to you to find other little hidden gems! 

The buildings of Princeton have not just challenged my observational skills but also enabled me to appreciate the different seasons I have had here so far. When my family and I first set foot on campus — around the time of Preview — one of the first parts we saw was the area of New South, which neighbors Whitman College and is, as mentioned earlier, where my Writing Seminar was. If you have not been near New South before, there is a circle of animal-head sculptures right outside of the building. This art piece is really impressive and fascinating, but it definitely caught me off guard when I first saw it. I remember thinking to myself, “Where am I? Why are there just random statues of animal heads on a college campus?” So, when I walk by this art piece now, I cannot help but think back to this funny yet skeptical first impression of Princeton’s campus I had. Additionally, as I pass by the buildings I had my fall-semester classes in, I often reflect on the emotions I felt at the time and some of the lessons each class taught me: somewhat anxiously walking into New South for Writing-Seminar conferences, learning Spanish vocabulary in a classroom of McCosh Hall, getting to know other freshmen and more about literature in my freshman seminar in Blair Arch, to name a few. I laugh at how frequently I find myself falling into nostalgic episodes as I go on my walks — I am only a freshman, so there is really no tellin’ how much nostalgia I will be feelin’ when I am a senior!

With final college decisions being released, I am sure many of you are going to be walking around different college campuses, trying to see which one feels most like home. Whether you are here for Preview or not, I know that the campus of whatever school you go to is going to be even more beautiful because you are a part of it. The buildings and surroundings we walk by on a college campus may strike our attention and leave impressions on us, but what truly makes a campus great is its people. So, as you tour different schools, try to appreciate their architectural surroundings, but also remember that the people are what make the places special — and that you will end up where you are meant to be!

Berggasse 19 was once home to Sigmund Freud, an Austrian neurologist who was more famously known as the father of psychoanalysis.

With its inconspicuous white bricks and stained-wood doors, the Freud Museum looks just like every other building in the block. In fact, its facade creates a deceptive illusion that attempts to conceal the symbolism, the history, and the importance of this otherwise significant building. 

This significant building was my home during the Summer.

For 6 weeks I studied abroad in Vienna, Austria, through the PIIRS Global Seminar program at Princeton University. From the Salzburg Alps to the Danube River, I immersed myself in the Viennese lifestyle: trekking through beautiful forest paths, wading through sparkling turquoise water, and attending lively music concerts where I understood nothing. 

On the flipside, I also spent hours on the third floor of Bergasse 19, attending lectures, giving presentations, and learning how to speak German. With the assistance of Professor. Gallo of the German Department and graduate student Friederike Ach, 11 other students and I learned what it truly meant to embody the spirit of learning beyond borders. 

From operas to concerts, art museums to libraries, and mixers to dinners, learning transcended the museum’s walls. 

We dined with guests of the most distinguished nature, learning from famous musicians and local university students what it meant to be Viennese. 

Eat schnitzel. Swim in the Danube. Get a sacher-torte (chocolate cake). 

Together, we visited magnificent castles and saw the tombs of the Habsburg emperors. We hiked the Austrian Alps and walked the Ringstraße. We attended traditional performances and luxurious dinners.

Indeed, this truly was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

My peers and I entered this experience as strangers, muttering tentative greetings and hesitant introductions but we left as friends, with shared experiences that cannot be replicated.

It was a period in my life where there was truly no limit to what I could experience — Princeton’s Global Seminar program broadened my horizons and gave me an opportunity to learn by experiencing.  

Through cultural immersion, I was able to think like the Viennese, act like the Viennese, and be Viennese; I experienced a glimpse of the world beyond by leveraging Princeton’s extensive resources abroad to truly make the most of this opportunity. 

It was a “soft landing” to the world beyond — in other words, Vienna felt just like home. 

I had access to people who knew where the closest laundromat was, where the best restaurants to eat were, and what “ausgang” meant in English. I had opportunities to visit expensive museums, taste regional cuisines, and interact with the local students. But more importantly, I had a group of people with me who could empathize with the difficulties of living abroad for the first time. 

To others, the Freud Museum looks just like every other building on Bergasse street. But to the 12 of us who left Princeton this Summer, it is a place where we struggled, learned, and celebrated what it means to learn beyond borders. 

Princeton courses take on a variety of forms. Perhaps the most common form consists of two fifty-minute lectures with anywhere from thirty to over a hundred students, and one precept with around ten students. Meeting three times a week, these kinds of classes are very common in the social sciences and humanities. Many people enjoy classes that meet only twice a week for two eighty-minute sessions. Every class structure serves a purpose and students can more or less tailor their schedules to reflect their learning preferences.

Seminars are classes that meet only once a week for three hours and have anywhere between six and twenty students. Typically, you will be assigned anywhere between seventy and two hundred pages of reading for the week. During class, you will be expected to come in prepared to discuss your own analysis of the readings and pose questions related to what you learned or found confusing. This means participation plays a very large role in your own success in the class. Assignments typically take the form of several papers throughout the semester, or perhaps one midterm paper and one final research paper. I’ve had a few seminars that have included a requirement to lead one class discussion during the semester, though of course no two seminars are identical. This is perhaps an unpopular opinion—at least according to the reactions I receive from my friends when I say this—but these are my favorite kinds of classes.

There are many benefits to enrolling in seminars. Three hours might sound like a painfully long time but more often than not I find that these classes fly by. I also know that the emphasis placed on participation can sound intimidating. What if you can’t think of anything to say? What if you ask a bad question? These were certainly all thoughts I had before taking my first seminar in my freshman year. However, I have found that the size and organization of the seminar greatly lends itself to increasing your own comfort with the subject material and participation more generally. Small class sizes are not necessarily unique to Princeton, but they are definitely a defining aspect of the University—one that I am very thankful for. Often, a sense of camaraderie develops amongst seminar students and the professor for this reason. This makes seminars a great opportunity to learn from your classmates, build close relationships with your professors, and develop your own skills in public speaking and text analysis. Put simply, I'm glad I took a chance on seminars despite being initially intimidated by the thought of them.

I have written previously about a class I took during my sophomore fall, Central Americans and Asylum in the United States. This was a fairly large seminar, but it remains one of my all-time favorite classes during my time at Princeton. I learned a lot about the asylum process through our discussions and involvement in real-life asylum cases. Junior year, I took a seminar called Playing Dead: Corpses in Theater and Cinema in the English and Theater Departments. We read plays I’d never been exposed to before, as well as watched a variety of films and movies related to the course subject. For example, I loved watching one of Guillermo del Toro’s movies and feeling like I was being productive since it was for a class. This semester, I am taking a seminar called The History of Incarceration in the United States, and another anthropology seminar on borders (which also has a few graduate students enrolled!).

Over the last four academic years, I have taken approximately ten classes that have been seminars—roughly a third of all my classes. As I prepare to select my courses for my last semester at Princeton, you can rest assured that I will be taking at least one more.

I never viewed myself as a writer. In fact, I remember I was quite opposed to the idea growing up. At the age of 6, I gave myself a headstart by struggling to read. In elementary school, the pattern continued as English was consistently my worst subject. Grammar and spelling never quite clicked in my brain—the latter of the two still has not improved with time (thank god for spell check). Thus, in middle school, I finally waved the white flag. I remember thinking to myself, “I’m good at many things, and I acknowledge that writing will never be on that list.” I never once thought I was good at writing, or had any interest in writing for myself.

I believe part of this misconception about writing came with its elusive nature. Growing up, it frustrated me that there was never a formula to follow. Unlike the math problems I could easily solve, writing left me uneasy on how to approach it, and even worse, how do you know when a piece is done? How do you know if it's good?

I didn’t like these aspects of writing for a long time. The only writing I did throughout my life was in a journal. I’m not sure what drew me to it, but initially I journaled to process things around me and to remember my life. Either way, I’ve been doing it consistently for the past seven years.

When I got to Princeton, my conception of writing didn’t change immediately. I took the infamous freshman writing seminar and felt further convinced that writing was not for me—academic writing at least. Slowly though, my journal evolved. Here and there I would write an entry that sounded pretty enough to share out loud with my sister. Looking back, I think my journaling slowly morphed into a sort of expressive art form. I was journaling to process my emotions, but also to portray my life in a poetic way. 

Even as I grew to love journaling, I did not formalize my love for writing until I found myself here, blogging for Princeton’s Admission Office. This job has helped me formalize my journal-like rants into completed pieces that I can share. And through these blogs, I realized a new inkling for that elusive yet expressive process we call creative writing. 

All of this is to say that being fluent in an art form doesn’t come naturally for everyone. For me, I believe years of journaling evolved a weakness of mine into a strength. It has been an unexpected turn of events to say the least. I don’t know if I’ve earned myself the title of a writer, but I can admit that I now view myself as one. 

Every Summer, the Princeton Institute for International and Regional Studies (PIIRS) offers students the unique opportunity to learn from a Princeton professor abroad whilst earning course credit. The dubbed ‘Global Seminars’ include a range of topics in a range of locations – from Culture and Politics in Vienna to Capitalism in Kenya – all of which allow the student to immerse themselves in the culture of their host country.

This past summer I was afforded the opportunity to attend one of these seminars, A Land of Light and Shadows: Modern Greek Literature and Photography, in Athens, Greece. As both an academic and personal desire, the seminar was a truly unique experience that I am grateful to have been a part of.

Coming to Princeton, one of my main to-dos was to study abroad – it is something that I had been dreaming of for a long time. This was compounded by the fact that I am half Greek, a part of my background that I identify heavily with. Having never had the opportunity to visit the home of my grandparents, I jumped at the opportunity offered by PIIRS. The Global Seminar, apart from appealing to my heritage, also piqued my interest in photography and by extension, how it relates to literature.

The seminar began in early June and spanned until the middle of July. The duration of the seminar allowed for so many opportunities to see and explore Greece, both alone and as a part of the seminar. I was joined by 14 other students as well as Professor Eduardo Cadava and graduate student Anthie Georgiadi. Living and learning together, we created bonds that will last our time at Princeton and even beyond!

One of the core aspects of the seminar was the daily language class taught by Anthie, a native Greek speaker, who introduced us to the Modern Greek language. Although difficult at first, it became progressively easier to pick up as being immersed in the country allowed me to see how the language was spoken. Along with the language class, the seminar taught by Prof. Cadava was held twice a week, where we met and discussed readings relating photography to Greece while exploring the more philosophical aspects of the texts. Some of my favorite discussions revolved around how philosopher Gerhard Richter (we actually met him!) relates photography to death. On a similar note, many of the readings mentioned different areas around Greece, many of which we visited, including Athens, Delphi, Galaxidi, Mycenae, Nafplio and Crete. We were able to explore archaeological ruins, usually privately guided by an actual archeologist!

The other main aspect of the seminar was the weekly photography workshops, where we met with renowned photographers who showcased their work and assigned us projects. This was a truly unique experience since these photographers are experts in their field. Additionally, there was also at least one guest speaker event every week. The speakers ranged from Greece’s former Minister of Culture and Education to artists who worked on activist issues – a truly diverse selection. In short, the guests that contributed to the seminar were nothing short of amazing.

Overall, this past summer was one that I will remember for the rest of my life, for many, many reasons. To any student, current or prospective, I strongly encourage participation in a PIIRS global seminar – it is an opportunity that you cannot miss. I am truly humbled to be a part of the Princeton community and have access to such unique and impactful opportunities.

An introduction from blogger Melissa Ruiz '25: 

Without a doubt, every student at Princeton will tell you there was one class that completely changed their perspective on a topic, a field of study or even life. Courses like these are available at Princeton, they make you reevaluate what you think you know and even spark curiosity to learn something new. As Hispanic/Latinx Heritage Month comes to an end, I’d like to share one of my professors from the Latino Studies program that has challenged me to think critically about the way I view Latinx representation not only in media and literature but also my past education and narratives I’ve consumed. In my sophomore fall semester, I took “Introduction to Latino/a/x Studies” with the amazing Dr. Keishla Rivera-Lopez, a lecturer in the Effron Center for the Study of America. The course explored themes such as identity, culture, belonging and Latinidad. She has taught me countless lessons through her courses and with each one, my intellectual curiosity has grown. I invited Professor Rivera-Lopez to share more about her experience as a Latina professor at Princeton, how she came up with such interesting/engaging courses and what her main goals are in teaching Latino/a/x Studies courses.

Dr. Rivera-Lopez

My short time at Princeton has been the most impactful and memorable teaching experience for me. It is in these classrooms, through dialogues that I realized my students have a hunger for more, more discussions about the popular culture or media that is supposed to represent us though many times it falls short and disappoints us. Though, sometimes, there are glowing renditions of our culture that give us immense pride. My students want more book and film recommendations that can, hopefully, endeavor to fill the gaps of knowledge they were deprived of in our primary and secondary education systems. They ask if I’ll be teaching more classes to satisfy their intellectual questions, which, in turn, makes me feel very needed and valued at this institution. This idea of more is not a coincidence when it seems like we’re often excluded from the curriculum or in other facets of society, and these moments remind us we’re often offered less. So, it seems my role here has been to provide more to my students, and it reminds me a lot of my experiences as an undergraduate seeking more knowledge and information regarding my homeland and culture to not only be included, but done so in an authentic and positive light. I know what it felt like to not see my history or my communities represented in mandatory literature or history classes throughout my education or that I belonged in those conversations or spaces. I had an immense feeling that learning my history and culture was a personal project, a solo trip I had to take and fulfill for myself. So, I majored in Latino and Caribbean Studies and immersed myself into finding out more.

My students’ introspective natures remind me of myself - this is why I went to graduate school and pursued a career in academia in the first place. As an undergraduate in a “Latino Literature” course, I rediscovered a passion for reading when I was no longer required to reread the same books and narratives that were recycled year after year in my high school education. I was finally not bored in a literature class and felt like I had to make up for years of no exposure. It untapped a desire for more in me - this is why I see myself in my students. This class cultivated a new worldview and way of understanding how and why my family came here - my dad in Brooklyn and my mother in Chicago and later settling in New Jersey within a Puerto Rican and Dominican enclave. I learned these enclaves aren’t a coincidence - they erupt from waves of migrants, like my family, who had to leave their homelands. I reflect on the meaning of education and its accessibility because most of my family hasn’t received a college education. I think about how I represent my own family history in the classroom as a first generation scholar, a Puerto Rican woman from an urban working class city, a Latina in academia and how it has given me a unique approach to teaching. Being a Latina is deeply rooted in my pedagogical approach and scholarship. 

And, within the liminality of representation or course offerings, I hope my classroom is a space for interesting and thought-provoking dialogue, one that offers historical context about migration and labor that help my students better understand Latino communities and activism while also providing nuances about culture and identity that help them better define and construct Latinidad for themselves. I hope my classrooms are a safe space to discuss the current happenings within Latino music, aesthetics, literature, and media so my students feel represented in the classroom and can discuss how iterations of the past inform the present. Or, why, for example, we can, and we do, discuss big cultural icons like Bad Bunny, Karol G, Cardi B, JLo, etc. in productive and meaningful ways.

I believe representation weighs heavily in the way a college experience is shaped and felt, so my job here in front of the classroom isn’t miniscule. I want to underscore the reason I have the role to be in front of the classroom in the first place is because of a dedicated and passionate professor, Dr. Yomaira Figueroa-Vasquez, who became my mentor and invested in me while I was an undergrad. Mentorship is critical to the retention and success of working-class, underrepresented, and first-gen students. She also taught me an invaluable lesson outside of the classroom - my history and experiences matter and, I too, belong in institutions, like academia, even though they don’t necessarily always make space for our stories, contributions, or us. Furthermore, I’m proud to be here and be able to do this work. This rhetoric pushed me through many moments of doubt, imposter syndrome, and hardship in graduate school, and now, as I navigate academia.

I am so lucky to be in conversation with and teach students because I learn so much from them. Their kind words and honest feedback make me feel truly valued and appreciated as a Latina at an ivy league institution. Though it is an enormous task, I endeavor to impact my students through in-class instruction, mentorship and dialogue that emulates the way my mentor helped and shaped me. Ultimately, my students inspire and motivate me to keep developing courses and different projects to maintain their engagement and interests. I am thankful for their contributions to class discussions, intentional reading, and their feedback that lets me know what my classes mean to them. I hope I can fulfill their need(s) for more in their quest to obtain and understand Latino Studies discourses of culture, literature, and histories.

My junior year has come to a close, meaning that, amazingly, I will begin my last year of college in September (time really does fly!). At Princeton, a defining feature of your final year is the senior thesis, a year-long independent research project in your department. There is an unofficial vocabulary of terms for referring to thesis-related phenomena (thesis-ing, thesis fairy, PTL (post-thesis life)), and underclassmen are generally advised to avoid asking seniors about the thesis at all during the month of April, for fear of unleashing a panicked thesis ramble. Given all this, the thesis can definitely seem pretty daunting, and while I'm certainly nervous, I've also realized how my first three years have really set the stage for the thesis to be much more doable than it seemed when I first started at Princeton. As an incoming first-year, the thesis looked very unapproachable, because I really didn't have the skills then for an independent project. But now, after the experiences in my first, sophomore, and junior years, I feel that I know how to approach original research and believe I can produce meaningful work for my thesis. I know that the road will be bumpy, but I at least feel that I'm in a well-equipped vehicle for the ride.

One of the most important experiences preparing me for the thesis was my writing seminar. All first-years take a writing seminar ("writing sem"), where you learn how to structure a research paper and to situate your original work within the existing literature. On every draft, your professor writes you a detailed feedback letter describing where and how to improve, and you then submit a final, polished piece several weeks later. Your professor also holds individual meetings with you to discuss ideas and approaches to your topic. It's a challenging but incredibly rewarding course, and it allows you to conduct a half-semester long mini-thesis where you practice the process arc you'll use for your senior thesis (Also, the different topics available are endless—the theme of my seminar was "Systems of Play," and my second major paper was about LEGO advertising).

In my sophomore and junior years, I started conducting research in my concentration, environmental engineering (moving forward from LEGOs to organic contaminants and solar energy!), through Independent Study courses with professors in the CEE and ECE departments. I became familiar with the literature and methodologies specific to my field, all while using the same skills and process arc I'd learned in writing seminar. Now, in the summer before my senior year, I'm working for Dr. Bourg to begin the research for my thesis. I'm not entirely sure yet where the project will lead, but I feel prepared and excited for the journey.

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A ray of sunlight peeks through the window and your alarm clock rings for the fifth time. You wouldn’t be caught dead waking up this early in the morning normally, but it’s fall course selection time and it's an inevitable part of the process. Slowly, you rise up from bed and anxiously open your laptop to TigerHub. You remind yourself that today you are waking up this early so you have the luxury of sleeping in next year. Hours spent perfecting and curating the best schedule can all turn to dust if you don’t press enroll right at 7:30 a.m. I’ll take the story back a few weeks so you can have a clearer picture of my course planning process. 

Princeton usually releases courses for the fall semester a few weeks before course selection (this year course selection runs April 18-20). Depending on your year, you may go about course selection in a variety of ways but I’ll be speaking from the perspective of a rising junior who plans to major in psychology. So far, I’ve completed all my distribution requirements and pre-requisite courses for my major. As an A.B. concentrator, I had to take 11 general education courses to fulfill all of the distribution areas (not including the writing seminar and the foreign language requirement). All of the courses I’ve taken so far have been genuinely interesting; some I may not have anticipated taking before entering college, but nonetheless I’m glad I was able to expose myself to different areas of study. Meanwhile other courses, I can’t imagine a life without: LAO347: "Latinx Literature and Film", ANT308: "Empires of Debt" and AAS201: "African American Studies and the Philosophy of Race."

You need to have a game plan when you go into course selection. First, you should identify which courses you need to take for the semester. This usually includes prerequisites for your major or certificate. I need to take PSY300: "Research Methods in Psychology" because it is advised that I complete it before the end of my junior year and it's only available in the fall. I add that to my course planner on TigerHub; some students use ReCal (a course planner website made by Princeton students) but TigerHub is easy enough for me. Once I have that time sectioned off, I can begin to work my other courses around it. I use the Princeton course offerings advanced search feature to look for days and times that are convenient for me and browse through courses that I might be interested in. If I’m being honest, there’s no perfect way to find your courses. Sometimes I’ll search through all the subjects hoping that something interesting might pop up but usually I look under areas I’m interested in. My go-to subjects are Psychology, Latino Studies and Gender and Sexuality Studies. 

While this is not a required step, I like to ask my friends about any courses they might be taking next semester. There’s nothing better than entering a lecture hall and having someone already saving a seat for you. I also think it's helpful to have someone to bounce scheduling ideas off of and get a second opinion, so definitely make it a group effort, it’ll make the whole process seem less stressful. Since I am trying to complete a Latino Studies certificate, I look for classes that fit my time frame and that I think would be interesting. I found SPA250: "Identity in the Spanish-Speaking World" which has a really cool description. Then, I check out the requirements and grading system. I see that there are no exams and that I’ll be mainly graded on participation, papers and presentations. I tend to steer towards classes like this because I’d rather write papers than take exams. Other people prefer the opposite so there’s definitely a variety of classes that can fit either preference. One cool thing about this course is that there is a mandatory travel component where we would travel to Puerto Rico during fall break. 

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Once I have planned a first-choice list of courses, I also search for backups. This is especially important for small class sizes like seminars, which tend to fill quickly. I also keep in mind the following tips:

1. Timing: Think realistically about when you will wake up in the morning. Don’t register for an 8 a.m. if you’re more likely to be up late. If you’re a morning person, then go for it! 
2. Lunch: Make sure to give yourself breaks for meals. Dining halls are only open for lunch between 11:30 a.m. and 2 p.m., but you can always grab a late meal at Frist. 
3. Reviews: Look at course reviews on Princeton Courses, these are all student reviews that really help put classes into perspective. 

With course selection coming next week, I am well prepared to pick quickly. Once I'm done, I'll be right back under my covers until the alarm for my 11 a.m. lecture!

At Princeton, I've been pleased to find that there's absolutely no stigma attached to reaching out for academic help. It's well-known and accepted by the students and professors that true scholars collaborate with others and ask questions to gain the best understanding of the material. As a result, office hours, sessions held outside of regular classes with professors or AIs (assistant instructors, Princeton-speak for TAs), are incredibly popular and considered an essential part of the course experience. I go to office hours for help with problem sets, papers and exam preparation, and they're where I've met study partners and friends. Different courses have different formats and styles for their office hours, so here's a round-up of the most common types of office hours.

1. The Classic

The Classic office hours is simply the head professor in their office. These office hours are usually open for students to ask more general questions about a department or topic in addition to course-specific homework or exam questions. The Classic can be slightly intimidating at first, because it's often one-on-one with just you at the professor's desk. But once you adjust, the Classic can be incredibly helpful. I went to Professor von Handel's office hours each Monday last semester, where it was often only me and one or two other students, and I usually made significant progress on that week's problem set.

2. The Lesson

The Lesson office hours resemble a lecture or a precept, in that an AI guides a group through a homework set. They're generally held in a classroom rather than an office in order to accommodate more students. The Lesson office hours are more approachable, in that there's usually a large group, but they're less interactive. The Lesson sessions with AIs who give strong homework hints become very popular, and sometimes they become standing room only!

3. The Divide-and-Conquer

In contrast to The Lesson, where everyone is working on the same problem at once, in these office hours students are usually working in small groups of 2-3 on separate problems or assignments. In Divide-and-Conquer sessions, the AI will walk around between the different small teams and give advice and feedback as necessary. It's helpful to arrive at these office hours with a friend so that you can work with someone you know, but these sessions are also great opportunities to meet new study partners.

4. The Zoom

There are pros and cons to office hours held over Zoom. An advantage is that you can join from anywhere, but a disadvantage is that you can't show your notebook to the AI or work things out on a physical whiteboard or blackboard. Some AIs will regularly schedule weekly Zoom office hours, while other times an in-person session will be rescheduled to Zoom when a professor or AI is traveling.

Many courses offer multiple office hours each week covering most, if not all, of these formats. I usually attend several different office hours for each course at the beginning of the semester and find which style I prefer for that course, and then I become a weekly regular attendee. I definitely recommend going to office hours to get the most out of your courses!