Professors Who Go Above & Beyond


Coming from a small school in Hightstown, NJ, I was worried that I wouldn't bond with my professors at Princeton in the same way I did with my teachers in high school. Having close relationships with my teachers outside of the classroom was such an important part of my high school experience. I was unsure if I'd be able to form the same kind of relationships with professors in an undergraduate population of nearly 5,300 students. But what I realized was that no matter how busy professors are with their own research or how many students they teach, at Princeton, professors truly care about the well-being of their students.

Princeton has 5:1 student-to-faculty ratio, so even though the number of undergraduates seemed like a lot to me at first, there are also so many professors to balance out the students. As an English major, I take a lot of seminar courses, which typically have 10 to 15 students and are focused on a highly specific topic. Some of my best memories at Princeton are from those three-hour seminars, where we discussed topics like the continuities that create the female literary tradition, the authenticity of a ballad or even the use of photographs in graphic memoirs.

In my “Historical Fiction/Fictional History” course, co-taught by two professors, each week, they spend the first 15 minutes of class asking us about how we're feeling and any updates that we want to share. Since moving to Zoom, my professors wanted to do something extra special to cheer us up about leaving campus. They designed super soft fleece sweatshirts with our course name and our team name (we were split up into "teams" to discuss the readings before class: I'm part of Team Platypus!). They even mailed the sweatshirts to us, and I was so excited to receive that package.

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Students in a virtual class wearing the same sweatshirt.

Professors also do little things to show that they really know their students. I often receive emails from my professors about cool events on campus that they think I'd like or new books that are coming out that they want to share with me. And if I ever want to discuss potential career interests or graduate school, my English and creative writing professors love to talk about options over coffee at Small World, eager to offer insights and share their experiences. Professors really want to get to know their students, so go to office hours and invite your professors to lunch in the dining halls. Professors are also more than willing to work with you if you're having a tough week and need an extension or just want to talk.

Professors at Princeton are passionate: they love what they teach and they'll convince you to love the topic just as much. But what I've come to learn is that at Princeton, professors go above and beyond the academics to show how much they care about their students. If you're considering Princeton, know that our professors contribute so much to the experience. They are always more than ready to support you in every way.


The "Distribution Requirement"


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.


Pre-Law Opportunities


If you’re a prospective Princetonian reading this and already know you’re considering law school, congratulations! You’re much further ahead in cementing your career goals than I was back when I was in your shoes. When I came to Princeton, I didn’t have a clue what I was interested in pursuing for a career. I knew I loved American politics and wanted to dedicate my life to service, but I didn’t know how that translated into a career path. As I arrived for my first year, I was bouncing a variety of future plans around in my head — everything from investigative journalism to opening my own veterinary practice.

I first became interested in attending law school during a freshman seminar I took on constitutional war powers. I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say that I found arguing and analyzing the law and its controversies far more fascinating than any academic discipline I’d previously encountered. By the end of my first year, I was pretty sure law school was in the cards for me. The research I’d done, both on my own and with the help of the gracious Center for Career Development advisers, helped to cement the idea that I could combine my prior love of writing and passion for service with my academic interest in law.

Two points I’ve already highlighted — the availability of incredible law-related classes here (taught by world class faculty) and the rigorous support provided by the Center for Career Development—are just two of many reasons preparing to go to law school at Princeton is a privilege. There are a variety of course offerings, across a number of different departments that allow students to explore diverse fields of law within the contexts of their academic specialties. Many of those offerings change every semester, meaning that there is a wealth of fresh opportunities available if you aren’t feeling any one semester’s worth of law-based courses. The professors who teach these classes, both permanent faculty and visiting professors, are often themselves distinguished lawyers with unbelievable career experiences. 

There are also many co-curricular ways to explore an interest in the law. Princeton Internships in Civic Service and the Guggenheim Fellowships are two of many Princeton-supported programs that offer undergrads unique summer law opportunities in public-service. Many student groups here provide an additional avenue, during the school year, to explore legal interest, whether through pre-professional organizations or activist work. 

I didn’t pick Princeton for its legal-studies opportunities. After all, I didn’t even know it was something in which I was interested! But I’m incredibly lucky to have stumbled upon a community which provides what I believe is one-of-a-kind for students interested in learning more about law. 


The Junior Paper


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.


My Freshman Seminar Experience


One of the first classes I took at Princeton was a freshman seminar called “Ethics in Finance.” Taking the class was one of the best decisions I made at Princeton.

I learned about ethics in the financial industry by analyzing case studies and past scandals. The professor really cared about us, and I was able to form a meaningful bond with him. I also grew close to my classmates; because it was a seminar, there were only 15 students. Through this seminar, I learned how to participate and contribute to class conversations. It made me question my own morals and think about the ethics behind my career choice.

The highlight of the seminar was our trip to New York City. We visited Acumen, an impact investment firm, and Paul Volcker, the chairman of the Federal Reserve during the Ronald Regan administration. The trip was an amazing experience as we got to meet people at the forefront of the financial industry, and we ended the day with a nice dinner at one of my professor’s favorite restaurants.

Taking a freshman seminar was one of the highlights of my first year at Princeton. I got to meet other first-year students and travel to NYC. I encourage prospective students to visit the Program of Freshman Seminars website and learn about one of the many ways Princeton helps us in the transition to college level course work.

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My freshman seminar class with Paul Volcker at his office in Rockefeller Center.


My Introduction to Academia


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.


My Favorite Princeton Classes


"Creative Nonfiction" with John McPhee

On the first day of class, professor McPhee wrote the following sentence on the chalkboard: “There are a million ways to start a story.” And with those words, he started mine.

I am better for having taken professor McPhee’s class: a better writer, a better student, a better observer, a better learner, and most importantly, a better person.

During my senior spring of high school, a Princeton alum and senior editor at TIME emailed me with one piece of advice: "Take John McPhee's class. It's a life changer." Four years have since passed, and I stand by these words wholeheartedly. I will never forget Mondays with McPhee.

"Introduction to Screenwriting: Adaptation" with Christina Lazaridi

I have always been a storyteller. But, before coming to Princeton, I didn’t know what my story would be. In fact, I matriculated as an aspiring fiction writer, only to discover—through courses like this one and John McPhee’s "Creative Nonfiction"—that the stories surrounding me in the real world are far more fascinating.

By taking "Introductory Screenwriting," I learned to probe the human mind to produce art that is reflective and resonant. At the semester’s end, I couldn’t help but hope that this was only the beginning—which is why I’ll be taking “Advanced Screenwriting” with professor Lazaridi this spring.

"Hustles and Hustlers" with Rachael Ferguson

Since childhood, most people are warned to “stay away from bad guys”—but professor Ferguson can’t resist. In fact, she makes a living doing just the opposite. Whether being blindfolded by mobsters in Sicily or shadowing sex workers in NYC, professor Ferguson never errs on the side of normalcy. In “Hustles and Hustlers," she used her rich ethnographic work to unveil the hidden codes of the criminal underworld. Going to lecture was like tuning into the latest episode of my favorite crime show, making this the most entertaining course I’ve taken at Princeton.

"Writing About Science" with Mike Lemonick

This seminar reminded why I fell in love with nonfiction writing. Throughout the semester, I produced pieces on every topic imaginable: from scientifically and aesthetically describing the aurora borealis to interviewing a microbiologist who works at a high-security federal laboratory. "Writing About Science" left me with a passion for unearthing the mysteries of the world around me—the extraordinary in the ordinary.

"Science Fiction" with Alfred Bendixen

When I first stepped into McCosh Hall in the fall of 2014, I had no idea how much I was altering the course of my academic career. Seven semesters later, the man who started off as one of my first Princeton professors is now my senior thesis adviser, and the books we once read in his class now fill the shelves of my dorm room and the pages of my senior thesis.


Course Selection: Choice and Exploration


While the end of the semester means the onset of final projects, papers and exams, the end of the term also means course selection! Course selection is one of the most exciting seasons of the year because it is an opportunity to choose to explore the unfamiliar, to embark on new challenges and to indulge in curiosity. 
 
Princeton is unique in its ability to offer the resources and quality of a research institution, while maintaining intimate class sizes, strong faculty-student-relationships and the values of expansive intellectual exploration embedded in the liberal arts model. This valued approach means that students are encouraged and required to take courses across disciplines. Each discipline offers a unique mode of thinking, each providing unique analytical tools that shape the way that you approach and seek to answer questions. 
 
At Princeton, there is only one obligatory course: the first year Writing Seminar. Additionally, students are required to fulfill distribution requirements and departmental requirements. Although there are “required courses” beyond the writing seminar, for every other requirement, students are given complete latitude in course selection. While the Bachelor of Arts (AB) and the Bachelor of Science in Engineering (BSE) programs have slightly different requirements, both share the structure and philosophy of the liberal arts model. Through the system of distribution requirements, all students are required to take a certain number of courses that fit into each distributional area, ranging from Epistemology and Cognition to Historical Analysis to Science and Technology.  However, since Princeton offers thousands of courses each semester and most courses fit into different distributional areas, the system is flexible and most students are able to fulfill their requirements naturally over the course of their eight semesters at Princeton. 
 
Each semester, course selection is an opportunity to take Princeton up on the offer to explore questions that I want to understand, to seek out challenges in disciplines that intimidate me and to question the approaches as well as the questions that I have been taught before. 
 
As a Politics major, this past semester, I looked to diversify my knowledge and answer new questions about the intersections between politics and art, history and culture. As I look forward to next semester, I am interested in delving into questions and challenges that I saw come up again and again in my courses this semester. 

Our Favorite Classes


The bloggers share their favorite classes they've taken at Princeton!


Intellectual Roots


I owe my intellectual curiosity to my parents, who patiently waited as I waded through books in the now-defunct Borders bookstore that I considered my own.  
 
I owe my intellectual curiosity to my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Potter, who encouraged (and required) each of us to engage in “Super Quiet Uninterrupted Reading Time,” (affectionately called “SQUIRT”) every single day. 
 
I owe my intellectual curiosity to Homer's "The Odyssey." I read it for the first time in 9th grade and have read it four times since. 
 
I owe my intellectual curiosity to Gabriel García Márquez and "One Hundred Years of Solitude." It is a book that transformed my values and challenged my perceptions. I read it every year, and it changes me every time I read it.  
 
I owe my intellectual curiosity to Leo Tolstoy — "Anna Karenina" and "War and Peace" were my solace in the spring semester of my senior year in high school. 
 
I owe my intellectual curiosity to my home — Santa Fe, New Mexico. There, I saw so many different remnants of history and culture and diversity. There, I saw socioeconomic inequality, an ever-growing achievement gap and intolerance. Even living thousands of miles away, Santa Fe continues to ground me and remind me how I should understand my values. 
 
I owe my intellectual curiosity to “Ethics and Public Policy,” taught by Professor Stephen Macedo, which challenged me to confront entirely unfamiliar questions and decisions. It made me uncomfortable; it made me feel nervous, and it made me grow, adapt and learn.
 
I owe my intellectual curiosity to the Humanities Sequence, a double-credit intensive survey course of the Western cannon, which introduced me to a brief glimpse of the expansive oeuvre of Western literature. I saw passion in every professor who taught the course. I saw passion in every student who gladly read 26 books each semester.
 
I owe my intellectual curiosity to “American Realism and the Perils of Painting” with Professor Rachael DeLue, where I was exposed to bodies of knowledge and conceptual approaches to questions completely new to me. 
 
I owe my intellectual curiosity to Professor Christian Wildberg and to Athens, Greece, where I participated in a PIIRS Princeton Global Seminar. Our sole obligation was to learn and observe and question. 
 
I owe my intellectual curiosity to "Constitutional Interpretation." I toiled and groaned as I carried my heavy law-school-like textbook like a security blanket. I cried in frustration when I received poor grades on pieces of work to which I had dedicated immense time, energy and heart, and I called my dad in triumph to discuss good feedback on one of my last assignments. My dad congratulated me, and I told him I will not be going to law school. 
 
I owe my intellectual curiosity to the students that I teach as an English as a Second Language (ESL) tutor. Our students dedicate the time to come to class every week in order to improve their grasp of a language and a culture that so often declares that they are unwelcome. Every week, I am humbled by their incredible ambition and genuine care.
 
I owe my intellectual curiosity to Professor Dennis Feeney and Professor Alberto Rigolio, who guided me, along with a group of twelve peers to Pompei and Rome in pursuit of knowledge and truth. (I also owe my intellectual curiosity to my 9th grade World History teacher, Coco Rae, who introduced me to the Roman world.)
 
I owe my intellectual curiosity to the courses that I’ve loved, to those that I’ve abhorred and to those that have challenged my knowledge, values,and beliefs. I owe my intellectual curiosity to the teachers and professors who helped implant and foster pieces of knowledge in me, to the teachers and professors that I could not communicate with effectively and to the professors that I hope to get to know.
 
I owe my intellectual curiosity, in many ways, to Princeton.