The Daily Princetonian: Commencement Issue 2022

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This Year’s Undergraduate Class


tarting off their Princeton careers in a rainy Pre-Rade, the Class of 2022 showed they were not afraid of a little adversity. In fact, throughout their time at Princeton, they exhibited perseverance, resilience, and strength, not least when the Princeton Bubble burst in 2020 with the start of the pandemic, throwing the class into chaos. However, the truth is that the Class of 2022 is not solely defined by their experiences with COVID-19. The Class of 2022 is a diverse group of people who were brought together in one of the University’s most selective years (only upended by last spring’s admissions cycle) with 1,941 students admitted out of an applicant pool of 35,370. At the time, this applicant pool was the

largest in the University’s history. Upon admission, 24.8 percent of students intended to enter the BSE program, and, of those students, 48.3 percent were women, 17 percent were first generation, and 11.2 percent were legacy students. Recruited athletes represented 11.6 percent of the class. Although the makeup of the class may have changed, with some members joining the Class of 2023 and some members of the Class of 2021 joining the class, Commencement has finally come, and this year’s Reunions, the first in-person one since 2019, will surely be one to remember.




vol. cxlvi

editor-in-chief Marie-Rose Sheinerman ’23 business manager Benjamin Cai ’24

BOARD OF TRUSTEES president Thomas E. Weber ’89 vice president Craig Bloom ’88 second vice president David Baumgarten ’06 secretary Chanakya A. Sethi ’07 treasurer Douglas Widmann ’90 assistant treasurer Kavita Saini ’09 trustees Francesca Barber

Kathleen Crown Suzanne Dance ’96 Gabriel Debenedetti ’12 Stephen Fuzesi ’00 Zachary A. Goldfarb ’05 Michael Grabell ’03 John G. Horan ’74 Rick Klein ’98 James T. MacGregor ’66 Julianne Escobedo Shepherd Abigail Williams ’14 Tyler Woulfe ’07 trustees ex officio Marie-Rose Sheinerman ’23 Benjamin Cai ’24

146TH MANAGING BOARD managing editors Omar Farah ’23 Caitlin Limestahl ’23

Tanvi Nibhanupudi ’23 Zachariah Wirtschafter Sippy ’23

Sections listed in alphabetical order. head audience editor Rowen Gesue ’24 associate audience editors Meryl Liu ’25 Sai Rachumalla ’24 head cartoon editors Inci Karaaslan ’24 Ambri Ma ’24 associate cartoon editor Ariana Borromeo ’24 head copy editors Alexandra Hong ’23 Nathalie Verlinde ’24 associate copy editors Catie Parker ’23 Cecilia Zubler ’23 head web design editors Anika Maskara ’23 Brian Tieu ’23 associate web design editor Ananya Grover ’24 head graphics editors Ashley Chung ’23 Noreen Hosny ’25

print design editor Juliana Wojtenko ’23 special issues editor Evelyn Doskoch ’23 head data editor Sam Kagan ’24 head features editors Alex Gjaja ’23 Rachel Sturley ’23 associate features editor Sydney Eck ’24 head news editors Katherine Dailey ’24 Andrew Somerville ’24 associate news editors Kalena Blake ’24 Anika Buch ’24 Miguel Gracia-Zhang ’23 Sandeep Mangat ’24 newsletter editors Kareena Bhakta ’24 Amy Ciceu ’24 Aditi Desai ’24 head opinion editor Genrietta Churbanova ’24 community editor

Rohit A. Narayanan ’24 associate opinion editor Won-Jae Chang ’24 head photo editor Candace Do ’24 associate photo editor Angel Kuo ’24 Isabel Richardson ’24 head podcast editor Hope Perry ’24 associate podcast editors Jack Anderson ’24 Eden Teshome ’25 head prospect editors José Pablo Fernández García ’23 Aster Zhang ’24 associate prospect editors Molly Cutler ’23 Cathleen Weng ’24

head puzzles editors Gabriel Robare ’24 Owen Travis ’24 associate puzzles editors Juliet Corless ’24 Joah Macosko ’25 Cole Vandenberg ’24 head satire editor Claire Silberman ’23 associate satire editors Spencer Bauman ’25 Daniel Viorica ’25 head sports editors Wilson Conn ’25 Julia Nguyen ’24 associate sports editor Ben Burns ’23 Elizabeth Evanko ’23 associate video editors Daniel Drake ’24 Marko Petrovic ’24

146TH BUSINESS BOARD assistant business manager Shirley Ren ’24 business directors David Akpokiere ’24 Samantha Lee ’24 Ananya Parashar ’24 Gloria Wang ’24 project managers Anika Agarwal ’25

John Cardwell ’25 Jack Curtin ’25 Diya Dalia ’24 Jonathan Lee ’24 Juliana Li ’24 Emma Limor ’25 Justin Ong ’23 Xabier Sardina ’24 business associate Jasmine Zhang ’24

146TH TECHNOLOGY BOARD chief technology officer Pranav Avva ’24 lead software engineers Roma Bhattacharjee ’25 Joanna Tang ’24

software engineers Eugenie Choi ’24 Giao Vu Dinh ’24 Daniel Hu ’25 Dwaipayan Saha ’24 Kohei Sanno ’25

THIS PRINT ISSUE WAS DESIGNED BY Dimitar Chakarov ’24 Brooke McCarthy ‘25

Annie Rupertus ’25 Juliana Wojtenko ’23


Alexandra Hong’23

Jason Luo ’25

Front cover design by Ashley Chung ’23 and Noreen Hosny ’25 Original text by Audrey Chau ’25, Cliare Shin ’25, Eden Teshome ’25, and Sidney Singer ’25 Layout Design by Juliana Wojtenko ’23

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Brooke McCarthy / The Daily Princetonian

Letter from the 2022 Class Government


erving the Class of 2022 for the last four more grateful. None of us imagined the ups of this class. We went through VID-19, the Fine Hall arsonist from getting Frosh Week to stay connected with country shut down, Class of 2022 is one of and resilient classes to Despite these trials have graced us with you guys the space to have fun. We’ll never 21st birthdays at Ivy Scorpios), sharing major declarations Week, and watching over Poe Field. We were contiyour impeccable event we planned. Princeton plan proexpecting the lowest pushed us to our limidroves time and time have had it any other In our own way, we to be “Feeling 22,” and the rest of your life. To for a fun ride, to find the scary and the unon the other side more than ever. These last four but we definitely we walk out the Fitthat this is only the together. We have no or even years, down other again and pick off. That even apart, we will all be connecshared experience To the Great Class

years has been an incredible ride. We could not be and downs that came with being a member it all. From the Princeton Plague to COto the Campbell Crapper, and shut down to losing our ability each other when the entire we have shown that the the rowdiest, tenacious, ever attend Princeton. and tribulations, you the opportunity to give do what you all do best: forget celebrating your Inn (turns out we’re all the excitement of your during our virtual Dec the sunrise with you

“ To feel 22 is to always look for a fun ride, to find the good and the joy in the scary and the uncertain, and to come out on the other side more excited and motivated than ever.”

Your Class Officers, Santiago Guiran, Senior Class President Joshua Haile, Senior Class Vice President Mansi Totwani, Senior Class Treasurer Mariah Crawford, Senior Class Secretary Debby Park, Senior Class Social Chair



nually astounded by attendance to every While many classes at gramming and events turnout possible, you all ts as you showed up in again. And we wouldn’t way. redefined what it means we hope you feel this for feel 22 is to always look the good and the joy in certain, and to come out excited and motivated years have not been easy, made the most of it. As zRandolph Gate, know beginning of our journey doubt that a few months, the line, we’ll see each up right where we left spread across the world, ted by an unforgettable that is Princeton. of 2022, thank you.

Annie Rupertus / The Daily Princetonian



Although the Class of 2022’s first year may have seemed ‘normal’ compared to its successor, it was still far from uneventful. Even before the school year began, the first-years made their mark when their unique rowdiness got them banned from eating clubs by the Interclub Council just a few days into Frosh Week. The historic moments did not stop there. That year, the class experienced Princeton’s first Bonfire since 2012 after the football team remained undefeated in the Ivy League. Students sipped coffee from the newly-founded Coffee Club — now a beloved campus spot — for the first time ever while they scrolled through the first and most popular iteration of Tiger Confessions. Students also faced the tribulations of the now-infamous ‘Campbell Crapper’ as the culprit evaded discovery. That year, the Princeton community also demonstrated its unrelenting capacity to push for change. Students joined hundreds of thousands of fellow students across the country to urge leaders to act on the climate crisis, gathered at community-wide town halls on behalf of the “Ban the Box” movement to remove the conviction history question on Princeton’s application, and camped out in front of Nassau Hall to protest the University’s Title IX practices. University Trustee Bob Hugin ’76’s run for U.S. Senate sparked widespread campus discourse, as anti-LGBTQ+ and

Image: JonKuo Ort //The Angel TheDaily DailyPrincetonian Princetonian

misogynistic rhetoric from his time as part of the Tiger Inn leadership resurfaced. On campus, students fought to change the room draw lottery process after two students discovered that larger draw groups were more likely to receive earlier draw times and that ordering was the same across 2018 and 2019 for those in the same draw groups — directly refuting claims made by Housing & Real Estate Services. Those participating in room draw this year can thank Adam Chang ’20 and Yang Song ’20 for the changes their investigation brought to the system. It was a year like no other, and yet would still prove to be the least tumultuous year of the senior class’s experience. At the end of the day, no student could have been prepared for what hit them the following year.

February 4, 2019

PROSPECT | Coffee Club is on the grind April 17, 2019

NEWS | Ressa ’86, Mueller ’66, Obama ’85 make TIME 100 list April 29, 2019

NEWS | Radical protestors threaten pedestrians with “hellfire” April 3, 2019

OPINION | The immorality of America’s silence towards Iran February 28, 2019

SPORTS | Women’s basketball to finish stretch of 5 games in 8 days March 4, 2019

FEATURES | A ton of disposable income and no style THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN



Annie Rupertus / The Daily Princetonian

Ressa ’86, Mueller ’66, Obama ’85 make TIME 100 list By Claire Silberman | April 17, 2019


ilipina journalist Maria Ressa ’86, Special Counsel Robert Mueller ’66, former first lady Michelle Obama ’85, Chair of the Federal Reserve Jerome Powell ’75, and activist Ezra Levin *13 were featured in the TIME 100, an annual list of the most influential people in the world. Time Magazine published its 16th list — which includes representatives from a wide variety of fields, from art to science to politics to entertainment — on Wednesday, April 17. Editor-in-Chief and CEO of TIME Edward Felsenthal described TIME 100 as “far more than a list. It is a community of hundreds of global leaders, many of whom support and challenge one another. And at a time when so many of our problems require cross-disciplinary solutions, they are also uniquely positioned to effect change.” Ressa is the CEO of Philippine news network Rappler, an outlet which has openly criticized Filipino President Rodrigo Duterte’s violent drug war and exposed fake news in the country. Her work has made her a target of the

Philippine government. She has posted bail 11 times in the past 14 months for charges ranging from tax evasion to cyber-libel. In a five-week period, she was arrested twice. Ressa was named a Time Person of the Year in 2018 for her work covering the Duterte regime and defending freedom of the press. TIME commended Ressa as an icon. “A new generation of authoritarian leaders is leading a concerted and intentional assault on truth, with serious consequences for journalists,” wrote Madeleine Albright, former U.S. Secretary of State, who wrote about Ressa for TIME. She noted the importance of journalists such as Maria who are “committed to exposing corruption, documenting abuse and combating misinformation.” TIME classified Mueller in the “leader” category for his firm sense of duty and his dedication to the Russia probe. In March, the former FBI director delivered a report on Russian interference in the 2016 presidential election. During the two-year investigative process, Mueller “uttered not a single public

word” according to Sally Yates, former Deputy Attorney General, who wrote Mueller’s mini-essay. “Distinctly apolitical, he confounds those who can’t comprehend a person driven by his all too uncommon values: honor, integrity, humility, service. He is the inverse image of the man he would ultimately come to investigate,” she wrote. “He called it as he saw it. He did his duty.” Beyoncé wrote remarks on behalf of Obama, who “shines as a beacon of hope who inspires all of us to do better.” “She would’ve been impactful simply by being in the White House, the first African-American First Lady. But she also used her position of power to improve the world around her. Her initiative Reach Higher, for example, encourages young people to complete their education past high school. She empowers all of us to interrogate our fears and surpass greatness.” Additionally, the current Chair of the Federal Reserve, Jerome Powell ’75, was listed in the titan category for “keeping the economy healthy, with plentiful jobs

and with inflation low and stable” and “wisely and capably lead[ing] a process in which monetary policy decisions are based on data and objective analysis,” according to his biography by Janet Yellen, former chair of the Federal Reserve. Representative Ayanna Pressley recounted the story of Leah Greenberg and Ezra Levin *13, whose online publication of a 23-page handbook, “Indivisible: A Practical Guide for Resisting the Trump Agenda,” spawned a grassroots political movement. “They did not do this work alone, and perhaps most commendably they are quick to step back, create space and center those most impacted by issues. In times of division, they’ve been a constant force for good,“ Pressley wrote. According to TIME, the magazine will host a summit with a selection of some TIME 100 honorees on April 23, in order to “spotlight the outstanding progress these individuals are making and encourage cross-disciplinary collaboration toward a better world.”

Courtesy of Pete Souza / The White House and Jon Ort / The Daily Princetonian 6


Annie Rupertus / The Daily Princetonian


Women’s basketball to finish stretch of 5 games in 8 days By Alissa Selover | February 28, 2019


fter a win against Penn (18–5 overall, 8–2 Ivy) that tied the team for first in the Ivy League, Princeton women’s basketball (16–9, 8–2) head coach Courtney Banghart decided to treat her team. For the first time in her 12 years of coaching, Banghart took the team to get ice cream after a game. The Tigers defeated Penn 68–53 in a rare Tuesday Ivy League game at the Palestra. Penn scored the first basket of the night, giving the Quakers the only lead that they would have for the rest of the game, before sophomore Carlie Littlefield hit a three-pointer that put the Tigers ahead 3–2. With half of the first quarter left to play, a three by senior guard Gabrielle Rush and two free throws by junior Bella Alarie put the Tigers up 8–4. After some back-and-forth scoring, another Rush three-pointer put Princeton up by seven before two consecutive baskets by the Quakers led to a 15–12 Tiger advantage at the end of the first quarter. Throughout the second quarter, the Tigers never had more than a eightpoint lead. After some back-and-forth baskets, the Tigers pulled away for a short period of time with senior Sydney Jordan adding a basket, followed by another three by Rush to put the score at 24–15 with six minutes left. The Quakers went on a five-point run, sitting at only one point behind the Tigers with four minutes left in the half. The half finished with the Tigers up 33–31. Two minutes into the second half, Alarie had gone on a six-point run, extending the lead to 39–31. Alarie contributed 13 points during this quarter, and out of the 10 made shots for the Tigers this quarter, Alarie contributed eight of them. The Tigers headed into the fourth quarter with a 50–46 lead. With six minutes left in the game, the Tigers had a 10-point lead after two layups from Alarie in 50 seconds. The Tigers only allowed one three-point shot and four free throws, totaling in seven points from the Quakers in the

fourth. With 5:30 left in the game, the lead that the Tigers had never fell below 11. Alarie contributed a game-high 33 points to the score with Littlefield scoring 14 and Rush sitting at 13. The Tigers had 41 rebounds and shot a .431 field goal percentage during this win. “The defensive lock-in in terms of personnel and action was on point for the entire game and offensively, we did the big things like bounce-passing and attacking from the baseline,” Banghart said in her podcast, The Court Report. The team will be wrapping up its stretch of five games in eight days this weekend. The Tigers will be facing Harvard (14–9, 7–3) and Dartmouth (12–11, 5–5) in Jadwin Gymnasium on Friday and Saturday. In their last matchup this season against Dartmouth on Feb. 16, the Tigers won 82–75. Coming into this game, Princeton will need to watch out for Dartmouth senior Isalys Quinones, who had 22 points and six rebounds against the Tigers. Princeton shot lower percentages in each category than Dartmouth, with field goal percentage for the Tigers at .466 and the Big Green at .509, three-point percentage at a low .273 compared to Dartmouth’s .563, and free throws at .733 for the Tigers and .909 for the Big Green. Princeton racked up 34 rebounds compared to the 27 from Dartmouth, so the Tigers will need to get their statistics up for this game and continue to beat Dartmouth in getting boards. On Feb. 15, the Tigers played Harvard, winning by a slim four points, 75–71. With the Tiger’s defense on fire for the second half, the Tigers were able to secure a lead. The team statistics for both the Tigers and Crimson were extremely similar. Since losing to Princeton, Harvard has won three straight games, scoring an average of 87 points per game. They are currently 13th in the nation for three-pointers. Crimson sophomore Katie Benzan is ranked fourth in the NCAA in threes per game. Coach Banghart explained, “Dartmouth is not an easy out by any stretch, and then you’ve got Harvard who has a

lot to play for. Two tough teams and I guess this is how it goes.” “We’re doing a lot of film right now and a lot of recovery stuff,” Banghart said of the team playing five games in eight days, “The more rest, the better for these bodies right now. We just gotta take care of ourselves and win one at a time.” Prior to the game against Harvard on Saturday, the Princeton seniors — Rush, Jordan, and Qalea Ismail — will be honored. Together, this trio has won 79 games with a .692 winning percentage. They won the 2018 Ivy League Championship and were a part of the first team in conference history to receive an at-large bid to the NCAA tournament.



Annie Rupertus / The Daily Princetonian


A ton of disposable income and no style Is Canada Goose a Meme or a Status Symbol? By Shira Moolten | March 4, 2019


man squints into the distance of an arctic because of personal preference, felt that for some students (or their parents) buying a $1,000 coat is “just tundra, his fur hat buffeted by wind. A woman fiercely pilots a helicopter. Three hikers what you do.” Yet while Yang’s coat practically fell into charge through dead grass at the summit of her lap, Moffett mentioned that other students seek out a mountain, logos faintly visible on the upper left arms the coat for its clout. of their knits. “Our mission is to free people from the “Some people buy these things and they don’t think cold — no matter where they live — and empower them about it. Other people buy them with the intention or to experience more from life,” Canada Goose states on the knowing about, like, the aura they give off. The aura their Indeed page. of status and wealth,” Moffett explained. From a cursory glance at the company’s website, the The coat has become a status symbol and perhaps words “Canada Goose” do not bring to mind the manimuch more than that. Yet upon further probing, many cured lawns and overpriced coffee shops of Princeton. students found it difficult to rationalize Canada Goose’s desirability. Zartosht Ahlers ’19, a Wilson RCA, sees They do not recall a gaggle of college students in fluffy the coat as a demonstration of wealth but also finds the coats, red and blue emblems bobbing. Yet two of the concept altogether silly. “It seems like a strange thing countless Canada Goose owners on this campus sat to pride yourself in,” he said. “When someone walks down with me, attempting to explain why a $1,000 coat in wearing a Canada Goose jacket, there is definitely a had become so important, if it was even important at all. ‘damn right, I’m wearing a CaIn the winter of her nada Goose jacket.’ But if your first year, Anna Yang parents bought it, what are you ’21 received her Canada Goose parka as a gift showing off here? Like congrats, you were born in a wealthy from her parents. Her household.” previous coat had been Yang agreed that her pastolen on the Street earlier that year. An interrents should have done more national student from research, and that for many Vancouver, Yang felt people, purchasing Canada that her parents were Goose is “almost careless” compared to other designer or staoverly concerned about tus items. “Like with a sports her traveling to a foreign car, where your intention is to East Coast climate. She go in and be like, ‘I look cool,’ described her reaction that’s not the same with Canaas ambivalent. “I think da Goose,” she said. If she could they bought it more as go back, she wouldn’t buy one. peace of mind for themselves rather than actual Some of her personal regret has come from the meme warmth for me,” Yang -Hunter Moffet ’21 backlash of recent years; as Casurmised. nada Goose sales have soared, Yang’s friend asked to the winter clothing brand has also taken heat over social remain anonymous, her own Canada Goose tossed over media. the back of a Whitman dining hall chair, a Christmas Selective Facebook groups such as Princeton Mepresent from her mom. “I kept calling it a ‘Canadian mes for Preppy AF Teens and Elitist Memes for Every Goose’, and my mom got annoyed at me,” she said. Neither student had heard of the brand before. Ivy League Teen have become popular sites for Canada Hunter Moffett ’21, who doesn’t own a Canada Goose Goose ridicule. Moffett authored a meme that garnered

“Some people buy these things and they don’t think about it. Other people buy them with the intention or the knowing about, like, the aura they give off. The aura of status and wealth.”



over 1400 likes in the Princeton meme page before another student reposted it to the Ivy League page. He said it was “light hearted humor.” “My friend was visiting here from Swarthmore, and it came up in conversation. I was like let’s make a meme, let’s talk about Canada Goose jackets — that will really piss off a lot of people, and other people will really like it,” Moffett explained. Though Moffett intended his Canada Goose meme as a joke, his criticism of the coat is sincere. “People who are in the student body here at Princeton, who are on financial aid or whose parents just don’t have access to the same kind of wealth that other people have, it just creates a big sense of animosity,” he said of the ubiquitous label. Memes allow students to subtly express their unease. “By joking about it, and by meme-ifying that conversation, I think it’s a way of making the criticism more productive, more lighthearted,” Ahlers said. “You don’t want to be the person that I’m being right now, like standing on a soap box, yelling at people.” Yang and her friend see Canada Goose criticism as an inside joke among privileged circles. “Quite frankly, I don’t think lower income students care if you own a Canada Goose or not,” she said. “I think it’s more middle and upper middle class. I’m middle to upper middle class, and I make fun of Canada Goose all the time. I obviously can’t speak for them, but I think they have better things to do.” She also believes that lower income students don’t participate in Canada Goose discourse because the discourse itself excludes them; in essence, the meme itself is elitist, as the title of the Facebook page where it has risen to prominence, Elitist Memes for Every Ivy League Teen, indicates. “I think this is an elitist meme, because the majority of people getting tagged on it are people of wealth, and the majority of people doing the tagging are other people of wealth,” she explained. “It’s almost like the default is everyone is wealthy. And so kind of like whether or not you fit the stereotype of a Princeton student is pretty much still made by the in group,” Yang’s friend added. The two Canada Goose owners do not perceive themselves as victims of the joke; rather, they feel that they are the only

Annie Rupertus / The Daily Princetonian

Sarah Hirschfield / The Daily Princetonian

ones in on it. “umich_geese,” the owner of a popular Instagram account that documents Canada Goose sightings at the University of Michigan alongside captions that poke fun at the wealthy, said she receives criticism not because her posts attack Canada Goose owners, but because they give publicity to Canada Goose and potentially demean people who can’t afford them. umich_geese, who chose to remain under her Instagram alias, owns a Canada Goose herself. In response to Yang’s comment that low income students don’t care, Ahlers, who identifies himself as a low-income student, strongly disagreed. “I think it is very, very silly to pretend that the expression of this insane amount of wealth does not affect the student population,” he said in reaction to the claim that low- income students don’t care. “I think a lot of first-generation students or students from low income backgrounds feel like the Princeton social scene is inaccessible.” According to The New York Times, more students come from the top one percent at Princeton than the bottom 60 percent. The Canada Goose label represents not only status, but access to the social scene entirely. “It is striking to me that people who wear Canada Goose jackets are so far removed from reality to not think the memes are hypercritical of their decision to wear those jackets,” Ahlers added. Kathan Roberts, a senior at Yale and author of the controversial piece “Empathy for the Privileged,” wrote on Canada Goose in the piece precisely because of their controversiality. His piece was widely denounced, memed and posted to the Ivy League meme page. In it, he defended the wealthy at Yale, even though he disagreed with their expressions of wealth, because he thinks personal attacks are unwarranted and hypocritical. “The jackets are unnecessarily expensive and ostentatious...when someone wears a Canada Goo-

se, it suggests either that the person is deliberately showing off their wealth or that the person doesn’t think very much about money,” Roberts said in an email. However, he also argued that memes — and Canada Goose mockery in general — demonstrate students’ discomfort with the privilege they gain from attending an Ivy League school. “As I tried to make clear in my opinion piece, it’s shocking to see that my peers have lifestyles so vastly different from my own. It’s also profoundly disconcerting to realize that this lifestyle may be my future. I think one of the reasons many Yalies are so quick to condemn their wealthy peers is that they, like me, are uncomfortable with the idea of benefiting from social and economic inequality.” The last line of Roberts’ article reads, “We must master the disdain we feel upon seeing someone in a Canada Goose jacket, for, if we lift up the fur-lined hood, we will find ourselves.” Ahlers admitted to experiencing this disdain, but because his problems with Canada Goose ownership have to do with more than its price tag. “I imagine if I went on a date, and the girl comes in wearing a Canada Goose jacket, just for me it would be an immediate turn off,” he said. “Not saying I’m inherently against people who wear Canada Goose, but it seems like a bad indication of your character if you’re willing to spend $1,000 on a bad looking jacket, with a negative ethical impact, that doesn’t keep you as warm as other jackets of lower price, just because you want to have that emblem on your shoulder.” Amna Amin ’21 witnessed the personal impacts of this contempt. “I was sitting with [a friend] one day and we were sitting with her friend, and I don’t think he knew she had a Canada Goose, and he just started going like “I hate people who wear Canada Goose, it’s so bad for environment, it’s so bougie,” she related during the interview with Yang and her friend.

“Wait, are Canada Goose bad for the environment?” Yang’s friend interjected. (PETA has led protests against the clothing brand for its cruelty in killing foxes). Regardless of whether the memes demonstrate total contempt for the coat or celebrations of wealth, both owners and haters find them funny. As a Canada Goose owner, umich_geese doesn’t know how it looks “from the outside,” but believes opposing students enjoy her posts because they interpret them differently. “I think that people either can relate to it, and that’s why they find it funny, or they don’t have a jacket and can’t relate to it, and that’s why they find it funny, but they’re finding it funny for a whole different reason,” she explained. “Like people who have the jackets and do have a lot of money probably [sic] and can relate to some of the captions probably think its funny because they’re like this is so spot on, like its so ridiculous but it’s true, whereas ppl who can’t relate, they’re like this is funny, because it just looks so terrible.” Ahlers noted the same phenomenon, comparing it to how both Democrats and Republicans love Stephen Colbert. “Both sides think he’s making fun of the other side.” Canada Goose’s symbolism, not only of wealth and status but of wealth and status as requirements for acceptance to the larger Princeton social scene, feeds into both its popularity and its disrepute. The intensity to which wealth is ridiculed in these memes, memes often made and shared by Canada Goose owners themselves, also points to a layer of self awareness or perhaps just hypocrisy. Studies show that people believe owning status symbols will help them make friends but look down upon them when it comes to selecting friends for themselves. So who is to blame for the Canada Goose phenomenon? Parents? Students who choose to buy these jackets, or receive them as gifts? Meme creators? Wealth inequality? Canada Goose itself ? Should we just stop talking about it and hope it goes away? “It’s a ridiculous situation to be in, because it’s just ridiculous that we have cared so much about this, that we’re having this meta conversation. Like you wear Canada Goose, you buy Canada Goose, you make memes about Canada Goose, and now we’re having conversations about the memes about Canada Goose,” Ahlers said. But maybe what students are so fixated on extends beyond the Canada Goose conversation. The clothes we choose to wear, the places we choose to eat: these messages define us, and stratify Princeton. In turn, they promise us protection from social isolation, and the elusive warmth and comfort of fitting in, a promise that comes at a price far higher than $1,000, a price of setting ourselves apart from others. Though the memes might demonstrate that Princeton students are becoming aware of this problem, no one seems prepared to solve it — yet.



Sophomore Year

Brooke McCarthy / The Daily Princetonian


Image: Mark Dodici / The Daily Princetonian


ophomore year was a year of growing activism on campus. In September 2019, Princeton saw arguably one of the biggest climate strikes organized by students. A month later, the Davis International Center bulletin board in Frist Campus Center was transformed into a Lennon Wall in solidarity with pro-democratic movements in Hong Kong. Within the same academic year, around 100 students, professors, and community members gathered outside of Frist to protest against the Indian government’s Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) enacted on Dec. 11. Such activism was admirable in a time of profound losses due to COVID-19. The sophomore class saw one thing after another taken away from them. First, gone was the excitement of being able to search up a precept crush on Tigerbook. Not long after that, the original platform where students could bond over the good, bad, and ugly of the Princeton experience — Tiger Confessions Facebook group — was shut down. In light of the increasingly uncertain COVID-19 situation, the Ivy League canceled all spring athletic events. Meanwhile, internships under the International Internship Program also got canceled, disrupting summer plans of many sophomores. However, hardly any day could be more disruptive than March 11, when the University sent students home for the remainder of the semester. Friendships abruptly severed, plane tickets booked a few days before departure, immense uncertainty about the future of their Princeton career, and an inevitable mental health crisis became the remnants of sophomore spring. Within the same year, sophomores also experienced monumental transformations to Princeton’s academics that generations after took for granted. Starting from October 2019, all course communications shifted from Blackboard to Canvas as we now know it. After eight decades, Princeton decided to organize finals before winter break, enabling students to have a truly restful time under the mistletoe. Then, in light of backlash from parents and students, the University extended the pass/D/failoption to all undergraduate spring courses. As the graduating class walks out of Fitz Randolph Gate in a few weeks, undoubtedly facing more uncertainty about life beyond the Orange Bubble, they will look back at their sophomore year and hopefully be reminded that not all hope is lost. 10 THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN

February 11, 2020

SPORTS | ‘Dream over dynasty: Princeton wrestling defeats 17-time champ Cornell for Ivy League title

March 23, 2020

NEWS | ‘The end of the world’: how students said goodbye to campus

April 6, 2020

PROSPECT | Xenophobia in the midst of COVID-19

June 27, 2020

NEWS | U. renames Woodrow Wilson School and Wilson College

July 28, 2020

FEATURES | ‘Resurfacing history’: A look back at the Black Justice League’s campus activism


NEWS | “Everything I have is here”: international students and the COVID-19 crisis

March 14, 2020

OPINION | PDF grading is the only responsible solution

April 2, 2020

NEWS | Two weeks into Zoom, students reflect on challenges of online learning

April 4, 2020

NEWS | ‘Anything to not go home’: Forced out by COVID-19, some students face unsafe conditions

April 5, 2020

OPINION | How to stay happy during social distancing

April 9, 2020

OPINION | Patterns in the pandemic: What racial data tells us and why we need more

April 13, 2020

NEWS | Over 2,000 students live outside the U. timezone. Here’s how that affects class times

Brooke McCarthy / The Daily Princetonian


Dream over dynasty: Princeton wrestling defeats 17-time champ Cornell for Ivy League By Josephine de La Bruyere | February 11, 2020


t took three decades, and a dream. It took Princeton’s 1993 decision to slash its varsity wrestling program. It took former Athletic Director Gary Walters’ insistence, four years later, that the team be reinstated. It took Christopher Ayres agreeing in 2006 to uproot his life and become head coach of the worst wrestling team in the country. It took Ayres’ fight for mats, for practice space, for a room of his own. It took 35 straight losses and seven consecutive losing seasons. It took Ayres’ promise to parents, recruits, and prospective hires: Princeton wrestling is going somewhere. Buy in, before hopping on board becomes hopping on the bandwagon. It took 14 years of Ayres visualizing victory and repeating his goals. It took heartbreak. It took hope. It took an Olympic year, took four of no. 20 Cornell wrestling’s top athletes off the roster to chase their gold-medal dreams. It took bonus points from no. 3 sophomore Patrick Glory. It took grit and drama from no. 5 sophomore Quincy Monday. It took senior Kevin Parker and no. 23 sophomore Grant Cuomo turning tossups into routings. It took the surprise return (first reported by this newspaper) of no. 4 senior superstar Matthew Kolodzik. It took no. 25 sophomore Travis Stefanik putting his team on his shoulders and his opponent on his back. It took three decades and a dream. And — take it from Ayres — “it wasn’t pretty.” But on Sunday, Feb. 9, for the first time in 17 years and 92 matches, Cornell wrestling lost in Ivy League competition. On Sunday, Feb. 9, for the first time since 1986, no. 9 Princeton wrestling won an Ivy League Championship. “Yeah,” said Ayres. “That feels pretty good.” If the Big Red had history on its side heading into Sunday’s dual, the Tigers — 11 spots higher in the national rankings and with a roster spearheaded by four top-five wrestlers — had numbers on theirs. They knew, still, that victory wouldn’t come easy. Cornell’s no. 5 Chas Tucker would pose a formidable threat to Princeton’s unranked 133-pound junior Ty Agaisse. And Cornell’s no. 4 197-pound Ben Darmstadt could whittle down the Tigers’ advantage with a victory against no. 3 junior Patrick Brucki. The meet would be decided, then, by five weight classes: 141, 165, 174, 184, and heavyweight. None of those Princeton wrestlers — save no. 23 165-pound Cuomo — enjoy national rankings. All of them — including Cuomo — have struggled for the past two months with consistency. “Yeah,” said Ayres before the match. “I’m nervous, to say the least.” The Big Red won the coin toss to start the meet at heavyweight; true freshman Aidan Conner took the mat. An early takedown by Cornell’s Brendan Furman set the tone. He logged six swipes-worth of back points in the second period alone and closed out the match with a 9-0 major decision. 4–0, Cornell. Next up was Glory, who’d detailed his strategy in a pre-match interview. “We want to go in with high intensity,” he said. “We want to go in there with a little bit of swagger. We want to go out there big guns swinging. What’s the best way to say it? Guns loaded.” He fired on all cylinders, logging three takedowns, two swipes of back points, and riding time on his way to a 9–0 victory over the unranked Dom Lajoie. Team score: 4–4. Facing no. 5 Tucker at 133-pounds, Agaisse trailed 5–2 at the start of the third. A father — orange shirt, orange pants, orange hat — leaned to his son in the stands. “If he can keep this to a regular decision,” he said, “that’ll be a very good thing.”

Agaisse fell as expected but managed some impressive damage control, limiting Tucker to a 9–3 decision. Sophomore Marshall Keller dropped the second of the meet’s tossups 8–4 to the unranked Noah Baughman at 141, allowing the Big Red to storm its way to an 11–4 team lead. The tide had turned in Cornell’s favor. But walking onto the mat was the one wrestler — on Princeton’s roster, certainly, and in the country, maybe — who could be trusted to turn it back. For the unenlightened: Facing North Carolina State on Jan. 11, senior 149-pound captain Mike D’Angelo suffered a season-ending injury. 149-pound Matthew Kolodzik was halfway through his Olympic year. He had just one more opportunity to qualify for Trials. But if he gave up his redshirt, re-enrolled at Princeton, re-donned his singlet, and won a national title? He’d receive an automatic bid. To him, to D’Angelo, and to Ayres, the decision was simple. Matthew Kolodzik was back. His 4–2 win over the unranked Hunter Richard took the team into intermission. The Tigers trailed 11–7. They didn’t panic. “We’re in the meat of our lineup now,” Ayres told his team. No. 4 Monday tied up the score 10–10 with a hard-fought decision over Cornell’s Adam Santoro at 157. No. 23 Cuomo dominated Jakob Brindley 8–1; Parker made a good case for a national ranking at 174 with a 10–3 drubbing of Andrew Berreyesa. Princeton led 16–10. Two matches remained. Next up, at 184, was Stefanik. A win for him — any win, with any margin — would make a Cornell victory impossible. A loss would put the stress on Brucki. 34 years of hopes and dreams rested on Stefanik. He’s had standout moments this season, but his fair share of failures, too — his shoulders seemed an unlikely set to count on. “Travis Stefanik,” said Ayres in an interview last month, “has not figured himself out yet. With that kid, we just keep waiting for a breakthrough.” With 28 seconds to go in the match a breakthrough — and vic-

tory — seemed unlikely. The score stood tied at 4–4. Stefanik was on the ground, Cornell’s Jonathan Loew scrambling above him for control. It happened quickly, all at once. 17 seconds to go: Stefanik got in on the leg. 13 seconds to go: in on the headlock. 11 seconds: he hit the cradle. One swipe; two swipes; three swipes; four. 10–4, match score; 19–10 team score. A dream had toppled a dynasty. The Princeton bench exploded. Kolodzik jumped into Keller’s arms. Sophomore Forest Belli jumped into Grant Cuomo’s. Stefanik jumped into associate head coach Sean Gray’s, then assistant coach Nate Jackson’s. Ayres threw a wheelbarrow — yes, you read that right — across Jadwin Gymnasium. “Blood, sweat, and tears,” said Stefanik, on the verge of them himself. “I came here for this. I came to Princeton to win championships — not just Ivy League championships, but national championships. This is for everyone.” “I don’t know that I’ve ever been that excited in somebody winning,” Ayres said. What was Kolodzik thinking? “I wasn’t thinking. I don’t think anybody was. We were just so, so crazy hyped.” Even an 11–4 defeat of Brucki by Darmstadt couldn’t hamper Tiger joy. “We’re all brothers,“ said Kolodzik. “We make sure we do our job, and we make sure we have the guy next to us. Everybody on the team stepped up. But in the final analysis, this is all about Coach Ayres. He’s the guy who made it happen.” So how will Ayres — the visionary, the wheelbarrow-thrower, the guy who made it happen — celebrate? “I’m going to go hang out with my family,“ he said. “There’s some alums here and there’s some kids I coached.” He laughed. “We’re gonna go have a little fun.”

Beverly Schaefer/ GoPrincetonTigers

Princeton wrestling, with its first Ivy League trophy since 1986. THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN


Isabel Kim / The Daily Princetonian


‘The end of the world’: how students said goodbye to campus By Alex Gjaja | March 23, 2020


o walk through campus during the first days of spring break meant trudging through hallways cluttered with filing cabinets, with textbooks, with furniture. Garbage cans overflowed in empty rooms. Mailboxes went unemptied. Food — in boxes, in bags, in basements — piled up and began to reek. Strewn everywhere was the evidence of college students forced out in a hurry. Broken bottles, red Solo Cups, and dice littered Henry Courtyard, its pristine grass pockmarked by a horde of students’ feet and a slew of folding tables’ legs. Leaning against the side of Campbell Hall was a half-empty handle of Svedka vodka, a stack of plastic shot glasses, and a scribbled cardboard sign that read: “It’s the end of the world as we know it so you might as well take shots!” Strewn everywhere was the evidence of college students forced out in a hurry — and determined to make the most of their last days on campus. “Princeton students are motivated,” said Camille Reeves ’23. “Once something is in motion on this campus, it’s hard to stop it.” For many students, in what would have otherwise been an ordinary midterms week, that “something” wasn’t their exams. After the March 11 announcement ordering almost all students to return home for the rest of the semester, members of the class of 2020 rushed to cram their senior spring traditions into their few remaining days. Some preemptively marched through FitzRandolph Gate. Eating clubs held mock graduations for their seniors, handing out superlatives alongside mock diplomas. A cappella groups held final arch sings all over campus; senior members of the Wildcats, an all-women group, sang the tune they had first performed when joining the 12 THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN

group. “I needed closure,” said Laura Kirkland ’20, a Wildcats member. “It was hard to end the hardest four years of my life so abruptly without getting the celebratory moments at the end.” Some seniors scrambled to check off a list of climactic Princeton traditions. Other students just tried to have a good time. Midnight DJ party in Henry Courtyard? Check. Jump into Lake Carnegie? Check. Set off fireworks on Poe Field? Check. Set off fireworks above Wilson College? Check. Sneak into Baker Rink for a midnight free skate? Check, and check. For students who partook in the campus-wide festivities, Thursday proved the biggest day of celebration. Some, like Elizabeth Evanko ’23, held makeshift birthday parties for friends whose birthdays would occur in the next few months. Others coped in less conventional ways: by egging Whitman’s courtyard, say, or by smashing bottles outside of Wu dining hall. The student antics garnered a sizable response: the force of the University’s Department of Public Safety, or PSafe, on full display. Officers worked through the night to break up individual dorm parties and gaggles of students blatantly ignoring social distancing protocols. A midnight gathering on Poe Field was disrupted when patrol cars, headlights flashing, drove onto the field, sending students scattering into the night. Administrators shared in PSafe’s frustration. In an email sent on Friday, March 13 and addressed to all students, Dean of Undergraduate Students Kathleen Deignan said she was “disheartened” to see so many students disregarding social distancing protocol and “engaging in disruptive behavior.” Deignan reminded students of communication from President Christopher L. Eisgruber ’83, who had stressed the need “to reduce the number of instances where members of our community gathered in large groups and in close proximity to one another,” given the risk of a COVID-19 outbreak on campus. Students found congregating in large gatherings, Deignan warned, could face serious consequences: documentation of wrongdoing, immediate campus eviction, and even arrest for disorderly conduct. Warning and all, many students made it clear that they prioritized time with friends over following regimented campus health protocols. But some shared the administration’s disappointment in campus’ physical state and in students’ disrespect for the health of the community. “It was heartbreaking to see how quickly people were ready to destroy campus,” said Reeves. “There’s a line

between being emotional and wanting to throw trash everywhere.” Kirkland noted that while she understood the source of students’ frustration and their desire to spend their last nights with friends, she still was upset by the number of large gatherings on Thursday night. “We’re all making this big collective sacrifice,” she said. “And we have to go home now, and not stay here, because we are trying to keep each other safe. I felt like ‘why do we have to make this sacrifice if people are just going to disrespect it anyway?’” The University is “taking drastic measures to prevent a spread of a deadly virus that all of you are ignoring to get wasted at 3pm,” read an anonymous post on the student Facebook page Tiger Confessions++. “Please stop being so selfish and ignorant.” No matter whether they committed to that communal sacrifice or threw safety regulations out the window, interviewed students agreed on one count: their last days on campus were an emotional rollercoaster like no other. There were “so many emotions,” said Reeves, “that no one will have a clear emotional picture or timeline” of the end of midterms week. Myles McKnight ’23, like Reeves, was unable to piece together a timeline of his last days at Princeton, calling it a “dense week.” As for why? Here’s a clue: It was, per Reeves, “a 72hour bender.” In McKnight’s opinion, nothing can make up for missing the last few months of his semester. But his last nights on campus helped him come to terms with leaving. And while they may have been a blur, he knows he won’t forget them. “I’m still glad that I had the experiences those last couple of nights that I did with my friends,” he said. “I think everybody savored every last moment we had together.”

Mark Dodici / The Daily Princetonian

Henry courtyard, one day after news of evacuation broke.

Juliana Wojtenko / The Daily Princetonian


U. renames Woodrow Wilson School and Wilson College By Zachary Shevin, Evelyn Doskoch, and Sam Kagan | June 27, 2020 The Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs and Wilson College will both be renamed to omit reference to Woodrow Wilson, Class of 1879, according to a University announcement on Saturday afternoon. The School will now be known as the “The Princeton School of Public and International Affairs.” Wilson College, which had already been scheduled for retirement after the completion of two new residential colleges, will be known as “First College” for the remaining duration of its time as a residential facility. Organizers for “Change WWS” — which called for the policy school’s renaming earlier this week — told The Daily Princetonian they “appreciate the University’s swift response” but demand more substantive action. According to President Christopher L. Eisgruber ’83, the decision took place at a June 26 “special meeting” attended by the Princeton University Board of Trustees who “concluded that Woodrow Wilson’s racist thinking and policies make him an inappropriate namesake for a school or college whose scholars, students, and alumni must stand firmly against racism in all its forms.” In a statement to the policy school’s community, Dean Cecilia Rouse wrote that she “unequivocally” supports the decision. “I have often been asked if not Wilson, then who should the School be named for?” she wrote. “I am glad we are not going down that path. Connecting the School to a certain person signals that the School stands for much of what the honoree believes. I feel that for a policy school to be the best, it has to be a place where a true diversity of backgrounds and beliefs exist.” In an email to students of the newly-named residential college, “Head of First College” AnneMarie Luijendijk wrote that for many community members “the association with Wilson’s name has been a constant minder of exclusionary practices.” “This renaming has been a long time coming and would not have happened without our students,” Luijendijk noted, citing the Black Justice League’s (BJL) 2015 protests and other recent displays of student activism against the Wilson name. In April 2016, the University announced that both the residential college and policy school would continue to bear the Wilson name — rejecting a central demand that the BJL had raised the previous November. The Trustee Committee on Woodrow Wilson’s Legacy at Princeton made

Lauren Fromkin / The Daily Princetonian

this recommendation, writing that “the University needs to be honest and forthcoming about its history.” Following the committee’s recommendation, the University erected an installation, entitled “Double Sights,” to explore the former University president’s “complex legacy.” Over 200 students, alumni, and faculty members protested at the dedication in October — with speakers reiterating the BJL’s call to remove Wilson’s name from campus buildings. In a statement to the ‘Prince’ on Thursday, University Spokesperson Ben Chang wrote that the Board of Trustees was discussing anti-racism initiatives, which would “provide the Board with an opportunity to consider the recommendations in the 2016 report on Woodrow Wilson’s legacy in light of current circumstances.” In his message to the campus community, Eisgruber stated that “the tragic killings of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, and Rayshard Brooks” played a role in renewed considerations of the University Trustees. Eisgruber’s letter acknowledged the “complexity” of Wilson’s record. He noted that Wilson “remade Princeton, converting it from a sleepy college into a great research university,” and cited that many of the University’s distinguishing features, including its “research excellence” and the “preceptorial system” had their beginnings under Wilson’s leadership — a leadership which eventually lead him to the White House. Yet Eisgruber made it clear that such achievements do not overshadow Wilson’s history of blatantly racist and segregationist policies. As University President, Wilson actively prevented Black applicants from matriculating, writing, “It is altogether inadvisable for a colored man to enter Princeton.” He also infamously screened “The Birth of a Nation,” a racist film that the Ku Klux Klan used as a recruiting tool, in the White House. During his time in the Oval Office, Wilson also dismissed 15 of 17 previously appointed Black supervisors. “Wilson is a different figure from, say, John C. Calhoun or Robert E. Lee, whose fame derives from their defenses of the Confederacy and slavery,” Eisgruber wrote. “Lee was often honored for the very purpose of expressing sympathy for segregation and opposition to racial equality. Princeton honored Wilson not because of, but without regard to or perhaps even in ignorance of, his racism.” Earlier this week, two groups of public policy students — comprising over three quarters of graduating undergraduate concentrators, over 60 percent of current concentrators, and more than 450 students and alumni

“Princeton has a responsibility to stand up against racism and to bring its scholarly and teaching resources to bear to create a more just and equal society.”

-Ben Chang, University Spokesperson of the master’s and Ph.D programs — sent two letters to University and then-Wilson School administrators. While the first letter, drafted by Class of 2020 graduates, demanded the removal of Wilson’s name from the policy school, both letters emphasized substantive transformation over symbolic gesture. “Even if you remove the name, that doesn’t mean anti-Black racism is going to go away on campus,” explained Harshita Rallabhandi GS in an interview earlier this week. “There are institutions out there without the names of white supremacists and who continue to be racist, you know?” In a statement to the ‘Prince’ this morning, the authors of the undergraduate petition wrote on behalf of the “Change WWS” organization that “while we appreciate the University’s swift response, changing the name of the School was one small part of our list of demands, which emphasizes the need for transformative change in the School — to pedagogy, faculty, programming, scholarly recognition, and anti-discrimination procedures.” “Our administration and our faculty are responsible for bringing that into the classroom — being humble and doing the urgent learning they need to do to more urgently teach us what we need to learn,” added domestic policy student Clarke Wheeler GS. “At the end of the day, in 2020, not including the phrases like ‘institutionalized racism’ — or ‘racism’ in general — in the coursework no matter what the course is — seems inexcusable.” Eisgruber’s letter emphasized that while the “steps taken yesterday by the Board of Trustees are extraordinary measures,“ they are not the only steps “our University is taking to combat the realities and legacy of racism.” “I join the trustees in hoping that they will provide the University, the School of Public and International Affairs, and our entire community with a firm foundation to pursue the mission of teaching, research, and service that has defined our highest aspirations and generated our greatest achievements throughout our history and today.” On Monday, Eisgruber formally charged every member of the University’s Cabinet — the institution’s senior-most academic and administrative leaders, including School of Public and International Affairs Dean Cecilia Rouse — “to identify specific actions that can be taken in their areas of responsibility.” Cabinet members have until Aug. 21 to prepare reports on how the University can fight racism within their spheres of campus operations. “As President Eisgruber told the Cabinet, Princeton has a responsibility to stand up against racism and to bring its scholarly and teaching resources to bear to create a more just and equal society,” Chang noted. “The President has signaled that every aspect of the University’s life – from teaching to research to operations to partnerships – can and must address these issues.” THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN


COVID-19: When we went home MARCH 4, 2020 | New Jersey announces its first case of COVID-19. MARCH 8, 2020 | After 11:30 p.m., a webpage on the University website was inadvertantly updated to indicate that classes would “move to an online format” until April 5, “and possibly beyond.” On March 9, the announcement was formally made. MARCH 11, 2020 | The University instructs “all who are able” to return home for the remainder of the semester, and the Ivy Leaque cancels all spring competition. MARCH 13, 2020 | A University staff member tests positive for COVID-19, the town of Princeton’s first presumptive case. The town declares a state of emergency. MARCH 15, 2020 | All students abroad are required to return to their permanent residences. MARCH 18, 2020 | The first undergraduate tests positive for COVID-19. MARCH 20, 2020 | Reunions are canceled due to COVID-19. APRIL 19, 2020 | The University withdraws travel-related thesis funding and cancels all on-campus research, impacting members of the Class of 2020 attempting to conduct their theses. MAY 31, 2020 | The University celebrates its 273rd Commencement virtually. 14 THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN

Junior Year

Brooke McCarthy / The Daily Princetonian


Image: Jon Ort / The Daily Princetonian


unior Year was off to a turbulent start for the Class of 2022. Just a few weeks before the start of the Fall 2020 semester, the University reversed its previously announced plans, meaning that juniors were no longer permitted to live on campus in the fall semester. The class saw itself scattered across the world and faced a loss in its numbers as some took a leave of absence to join the Class of 2023. As spring bloomed, so did the hopes of students making a return to campus after the University invited back all undergraduates, with three-quarters of the class making the journey back. However, the strain of social isolation soured the situation as Social Contract violations piled up and complicated aspects of student life. Despite the hardships of the pandemic, the undergraduate student body used its remaining energy to hold the University and its community members accountable. The American Whig-Cliosophic Society debated its past commendation of Sen. Ted Cruz ’92 amid his involvement with the Jan. 6 U.S. Capitol riots. Students gathered to protest in solidarity with MOVE against the handling of MOVE bombing victims’ remains by University anthropologists. And students, along with staff and faculty, on the Resource Committee of the CPUC set recommended criteria for fossil fuel divestment following over a year of activism from Divest Princeton. The end of the year left campus with a positive outlook for the future. Within the last two weeks of April, things began to take a turn for the better. Students received their first doses of the COVID-19 vaccine, increasingly so as the campus began providing vaccines. Student athletes in track and field, softball, and crew were able to compete for the first time in a little over a year. And the University took an important step in furthering diversity and inclusion in the academic space as the Committee on the Course of Study approved the American Sign Language sequence. A year marked by unprecedented times set the stage for a year that would hold promise for some sort of return to normalcy.

November 10, 2020

PROSPECT | At home, I live in fear. Princeton offers no safe haven.

November 16, 2020

NEWS | Princeton alters emergency housing criteria amid concerns from LGBTQ+ students

November 23, 2020

FEATURES | Communal apartments, visa troubles, and becoming nocturnal: International students try to ‘make it work’

February 28, 2021

PODCAST | Alone in 1967 Hall: What it’s like to test positive on Princeton’s campus

April 27, 2021

SPORTS | Opening success for men’s and women’s track and field teams at Weaver Stadium

May 2, 2021

NEWS | Princeton hosts on-campus vaccination clinic

May 6, 2021

OPINION | Mental health is not a product of one’s volition

DIVEST PRINCETON September 27, 2020

NEWS | Divest Princeton organizes virtual climate strike

November 18, 2020

NEWS | Divest Princeton accumulates 62 faculty and staff, 161 alumni endorsements ahead of referendum

November 27, 2020

NEWS | Potter ’22 elected President, USG referenda on divestment and Election Day pass

January 17, 2021

NEWS | Divest Princeton, ExxonMobil, and the intersectionality of environmentalism | The Orange Table Ep. 4

February 25, 2021

OPINION | Divestment is a matter of racial justice

March 7, 2021

FEATURES | As Divest Princeton awaits University response, a look at past divestment movements

April 26, 2021

NEWS | Divest Princeton holds “Earth Day, No Delay” rally at Nassau Hall

May 3, 2021

NEWS | Resources Committee recommends criteria for fossil fuel divestment

June 4, 2021

NEWS | Princeton to divest from some sectors of the fossil fuel industry THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN


Brooke McCarthy / The Daily Princetonian


At home, I live in fear. Princeton offers no safe haven.

By Anonymous | November 10, 2020

Mark Dodici / The Daily Princetonian


ince being sent to live with my family in March, I have been trying to keep myself alive. I am gay and have been forced to live with my religiously conservative and homophobic family. I fear for my safety. As we all wait for the University to announce its plan for spring, I do not wonder alongside my classmates who will be invited back to campus; instead, I worry. I worry because I know that if my class is not invited back, I will have to apply for emergency housing again. I am trying to convince myself that I am entitled to feel safe. I am trying to listen to the voices of my therapist and friends. I am trying to rewrite my brain. I am trying to believe that my entitlement to security and safety is not conditional. That I deserve to feel safe now, as I am, not only if I “fix” myself and “become” straight, crush every impulse of self, and subdue my will for the will of my parents. “No,” I am trying to tell myself. “My family is wrong. They are misguided and ill-informed and they do not know what I


am learning: that love has no bounds. Love knows no limit and bars no one from entry.” I am trying to allow myself to feel loved and feel capable of being loved despite the years of self-loathing built into my skin, despite the fact that being gay makes me feel shameful and disgusted and confused and lonely and existentially at odds with any familiar version of God. None of this is easy. But I am trying. I am trying to enjoy my classes. I am trying to push my shame not only to the back of my mind, but out of mind and heart and soul altogether. I am trying to imagine how it might feel outside of the confines of these structures that are suffocating me. I am trying to be okay. Only, it is hard to carve out little bubbles of safety, tiny pockets of happiness, and spaces where I can just be, in the face of rejections from the University. It becomes harder to convince myself that I am worthy of love and safety and care. How can I believe my therapist when they tell me I am in an emergency situation when the University denied my application for emergency housing? How can I secure alternate housing when every University official I talk to says I should out myself and out myself again and again, or “Oh, you should really reach out to so-and-so.” Sometimes, I will listen. I will say I am gay. Other times, I will simply say I have a complicated home life. In between work and classes, I will email and explain. I will email and beg. I will email and pour out my heart to the total stranger who is the University administrator on the other end. I will email and out myself just one more time. Each time I will explain the feelings I have still not yet worked out for myself. I will pretend that I want help. I will pretend that I still believe it can get better. I will pretend that I believe I am worthy of help. And each time I

will hear: “Sorry.” “You missed the deadline.” “You are not eligible.” “You do not qualify for this fund.” And each time I will respond: “I understand. Thank you for your help.” Or maybe, “Thank you so much for your help!!” I am unable to keep trying to advocate for myself. The jig is up. I cannot keep pretending that I care anymore. I cannot keep trying to believe I am worthy. The University cannot help me. No one will say this, of course — instead, they will refer me to someone else, but this is the truth. As Kristal Grant ’24 articulated in her column, “The consequences of being a queer Princeton student during a pandemic,” dependency override is not widely accessible for students. I was told it would be hard to receive. I am not eligible for aid because I am a dependent of my parents, yet at the same time I am deterred from trying to declare independence from my parents. The message could not be clearer. The University is telling me the same thing I have told myself for years, the same thing everyone in my family and hometown would tell me if they knew: Stay in the closet. Do it. Just for a little longer. Just until you graduate. Do what you need to do to get your parents to keep paying your tuition. Do what you need to do to get your parents to support you living away from them. Be straight. Do the things your parents insist you do, even though your therapist says they are unreasonable. Do it. I will not call on you, Princeton, to do better. I will not ask for help. I will not make my case again. I will not send one more email. I will not ask you to care more, to do more, to be more, because I already know how it ends. Thank you so much for your help.

“The message could not be clearer. The University is telling me the same thing I have told myself for years, the same thing everyone in my family and hometown would tell me if they knew: Stay in the closet. Do it. Just for a little longer. Just until you graduate. ”

Editor’s Note: The author of this column was granted anonymity due to the intensely personal nature of the events described and potential for retaliation or harm.



Brooke McCarthy / The Daily Princetonian


Communal apartments, visa troubles, and becoming nocturnal: International students try to ‘make it work’ By Emiri Morita | November 23, 2020


actually got the email 12 hours before my flight to the U.S.,” said Songtao Li ’24, recalling the moment he learned that his first college semester would be fully online. Ready to quarantine upon arrival, he had already booked a hotel in the U.S. Instead, he stayed in Beijing, China, as a full-time student, 7,000 miles away from campus and 13 hours ahead of Eastern Standard Time. Li is not alone. “Among active international undergraduates, roughly 335 are residing outside the U.S. this semester,” said Deputy University Spokesperson Michael Hotchkiss. What has the remote semester been like for these international students? The Daily Princetonian sat down with seven students who live outside the U.S. to learn more about their experiences. Adjusting to ‘Princeton time’ For students outside of the U.S., realizing that a class or Zoom event will take place in the dead of night has become an almost-daily occurrence. Ellie Bae ’23, who lives in Seoul, South Korea, reported that compared to last spring, professors have tried to be more accommodating for international students. Still, some compromises have been inevitable. “I feel like the biggest challenge for me is attending office hours and social events,” she wrote in a text, “because they are usually around late nights here. My sleep schedule has actually become really bad because I have lectures / office hours late at night and precepts early in the mornings.” Li, a prospective chemistry major, pointed out that scheduling often depends on what types of classes a student takes. “Luckily, I’m taking mostly STEM classes,” he said, “which makes class times more flexible because of the larger class sizes. My other friends here [in Beijing] studying humanities are having more trouble with precept times.” Smaller humanities classes tend to have fewer precept times available and often require in-person attendance. Maria Elena Zigka ’23, from Thessaloniki, Greece, echoed Li, citing online social events as the most difficult for international students to join. “Clubs have been very accommodating with meetings, but less so with Zoom social events,” she said. “Even if the time worked, sometimes we’re


so tired of Zoom that we choose not to attend, especially at inconvenient hours.” While some international students such as Li, Bae, and Zigka have tried to stick as best they could to their regular sleeping hours, others are choosing to do the opposite. Tevin Singei ’24, who lives in Nairobi, Kenya, has transformed his sleep schedule to match Princeton’s timezone. “I wake up at around 1 p.m. and go to bed at 6 a.m.,” Singei said. “Luckily, I was already a very nocturnal person, but I basically shifted my schedule seven hours and now live in Princeton time.” New apartments, new countries: finding the best learning environment Singei’s tactic of flipping day and night has been feasible thanks to Princeton’s external housing program, which made it possible for him to live in his own apartment, rather than his family home. Taking classes from his home would have been a challenge, not only because of internet and electricity issues, but also because he would have disturbed his family every night. “I didn’t want to be an extra burden on family,” he said. Now, he lives in an apartment building full of college students like himself, some of whom attend local Kenyan colleges and some who attend other American universities, such as Stanford and the University of Pennsylvania. Having an apartment in Nairobi, however, does not solve all the difficulties that come with remote learning from so far away. When a thunderstorm or national power outage disrupts Singei’s internet connection, he can do nothing. “I turned in my math exam three minutes late via email because the power went out,” he recalled. “My professor didn’t quite understand which felt unfair … it really wasn’t anything I could control.” He’s faced another kind of trouble when trying to explain his situation to people in his hometown. “I’m from a rural area of Kenya,” he said, “and the people back home are starting to get skeptical. They’re all like, he’s still in Nairobi? What is this? Is he really going to a U.S. college?” Zigka took advantage of her proximity to four Princeton friends who live in neighboring coun-

tries. The five of them moved to Barcelona, where they have spent the semester. “Living with my group of girl friends in Barcelona has definitely helped feel a sense of community, although I’m not on campus,” Zigka said. “When you’re alone at home, the pace of life is different [because] you’re with family. But the five of us have the same routine and set of responsibilities, which helps to motivate each other to work and study.” Midterms week was a hectic time for Zigka and her four housemates, as they struggled to organize times for test-taking and quiet study in their small shared space. “We literally made a spreadsheet,” Zigka said. “It was strange, weird, and hard to coordinate. But we made it work.” Handling distance, or lack thereof, from home Among international Princetonians, some have not returned to their home countries at all — whether by choice or not. Ian Jaccojwang ’23 from Kisumu, Kenya, is currently living on campus. He recounted the visa obstacles facing one of his friends. “I have a friend on campus who has a two-year visa which is about to expire, but cannot go home because the embassy in his country is closed,” he said. “There is no guarantee he could renew it to come back to the States.” Jaccojwang himself has not gone back to Kenya since he arrived on campus as a first-year. “I didn’t go home [last spring] because Kenya’s borders were closed and because I had an internship in the U.S. over the summer,” he said. “I’m really hoping to go back this winter since the borders are now open. Unless the pandemic gets out of control, I should be able to go back.” Students who were able to return to their home countries expressed gratitude and found silver linings. Home in Kenya, Singei was thankful he didn’t have to go through the culture shock of moving to the U.S. alongside the academic shock of Princeton. Instead, he’s “just dealing with academic shock first.” Bofan Ji ’24 from Beijing, China, was also thankful that he could stay with his family for Image: Sydney Peng / The Daily Princetonian

Brooke McCarthy / The Daily Princetonian

another semester. “Being international, it means we’re going to spend the entire four years of college without proximity to our parents,” he said. “This can be very tough. This pandemic is actually a special opportunity for me to get closer to my parents and make them feel a little better before moving away for college.” For Zigka, although she’s not living in her home country, “it’s definitely nice to be closer to home [in Europe] to talk to my mom and friends back home without a big time difference.” Being a first-year from afar Zigka and Jaccojwang are both International Center Student Leaders at the Davis International Center, where they help organize the International Orientation program for first year students. They both reported that first-year international students have encountered an especially difficult time finding community. “I think it’s very different for the freshman class,” Zigka said. “Most are stuck at home and can only meet people through Zoom. They seemed to have enjoyed it at first, but I get a sense that they’re increasingly feeling fed up with Zoom calls.” Despite such difficulties, Singei credited his experience at the Freshman Scholars Institute, a two-month summer program for first-years of first-generation and low-income backgrounds, with creating a sense of community. In addition, he is thankful for group projects. “Working on things together with people helped me a lot getting to know people,” he said. But Zoom speed-friending sessions? Not so much. “Thirty seconds to one minute to get to know someone? Honestly, not really effective,” he said, referring to his experience during International Orientation. “You need a real conversation with people to get to know them.” Ji, on the other hand, said that the Princeton students in Beijing have made efforts to get together, especially since the pandemic has come under control in recent months. “We formed a group of ourselves, including freshman and upperclassmen,” he said, “and are planning to do some activities together.” For Ji, extracurriculars have also helped. “You won’t know many people otherwise,” he said. Li, however, opted not to join any clubs this semester. “I didn’t know how I’d be able to commit to things with the time difference,” he said. “I’m leaving that to when I get to campus.”

Annie Zhou ’21 from Toronto, Canada, pointed out that living outside the U.S. makes obtaining work authorization for American internships and jobs difficult, if not impossible, for many of her international friends. “Two summers ago, almost 80 international students lost their jobs and internships due to delayed work authorization. I was in that cohort.” “The issue this time is that there is a prerequisite saying you must be in the U.S. to apply for OPT and CPT,” she explained. Optional Practical Training (OPT) is an extension of the F-1 student visa which allows international students to work in the U.S. for up to one or three years after graduation. Curricular Practical Training (CPT) is the summer internship equivalent. Zhou worries that if she is not allowed back on campus in the spring, she will not meet the prerequisite to apply for her post-graduation work authorization. “Luckily, there’s a particular work visa under the NAFTA agreement that Canadians and Mexicans can apply for. That’s my fall back. But my friends have no other option.” According to Zhou, working remotely for a U.S. company while being in another country is similarly

convoluted, as employers vary in their work authorization requirements for non-U.S. citizens. “The company I interned for last summer happened to have a Canadian branch, so I was able to find a way to work for them without a CPT. But it’s very case-by-case whether you can work remotely from outside the U.S.” On top of that, policies surrounding immigration and work authorization continue to change, which adds to the confusion. “Honestly, a lot of us are left speculating because it’s hard to predict what may happen next, especially now that the administration will change.” The unpredictability of national visa policy, coupled with nerves about rising U.S. COVID-19 case numbers, has international students glued to their inboxes for the University’s decision about the next semester. “I just want to be on campus,” said Singei, hoping to finally get the “global exposure” that he dreamed college would provide. But Ji expressed skepticism about international students’ chances of an in-person spring. “Can [the United States] really solve this problem in three months?” he asked.

Unstable immigration policies, obtaining work authorization, and looking ahead For other students, the implications of returning to campus extend far beyond the academic year. On Nov. 7, over 100 first-year students sent a letter to President Christopher Eisgruber ’83 and other top administrators, urging them to “do what [they] can” to bring first-year international students to campus. The signatories cited first-year international students’ unique struggles with social disconnection, time differences, and future employment in the U.S. THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN


Brooke McCarthy / The Daily Princetonian


Princeton hosts on-campus vaccination clinic By Bhoomika Chowdhary | May 2, 2021


he Princeton Health Department, in partnership with University Health Services (UHS), held a student COVID-19 vaccine clinic at Jadwin Gymnasium on Thursday, April 29. Spots were originally offered to international students, but the clinic was eventually opened to all undergraduate and graduate students eligible under state guidelines. As of April 19, all individuals ages 16 years or older who live, work, or study in New Jersey are eligible for the COVID-19 vaccine. The one-dose Johnson & Johnson vaccine was administered at Jadwin Gymnasium to students who scheduled an appointment through MyUHS. Students reported having no issues with getting an appointment despite a limited number of available doses. At Jadwin, students arriving at their scheduled time were directed to a line by the entrance and handed a clipboard with some paperwork. “It was pretty efficient,” explained Jack Bound ’22. “All you had to do is sign a few papers, which is relatively painless as far as things go.” A number of other students were pleasantly surprised that the vaccination took approximately 15 seconds and found the process to be “swift” and “efficient.” After the vaccine was administered, students were kept for a 15- or 30-minute observation period to ensure they had no adverse or allergic reactions. Students expressed a number of reasons for getting vaccinated on campus. Almost all of them cited the University’s policy requiring proof of an FDA-approved COVID-19 vaccination in order for students to return to campus in the fall of 2021. Ivan Ruiz Leon ’23 explained that he believes “it’s our responsibility as a community for herd immunity and everyone’s safety to get vaccinated. If the University is providing it, then it’s a win-win situation for everyone.” Mohamed Alghondakly ’23 also expressed the common sentiment of wanting life to return to normal. Alghondakly said that he “just wanted to get it over with and wanted to have a normal summer.” Several students expressed gratitude that the University was providing the vaccine for students who wanted to get it but hadn’t yet. A significant number of students and faculty have already been vaccinated off-campus over the past several months for a number of reasons. Ethan McAlpine ’21 was able to register for the vaccine through group 1A since his job as an Accessioning Specialist in the Princeton University Clinical Laboratory qualified him as a healthcare worker. He noted that though he has already contracted COVID-19 twice, 20 THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN

that is not recognized by the government as immunity, so he decided to get the vaccine for this reason as well. Jovan Aigbekaen ’23 was able to register for the vaccine in March because his asthma allowed him to qualify as someone with a pre-existing condition. Julia Garaffa ’23 explained that her aunt, who knew that the Robert Wood Johnson (RWJ) Hospital would have vaccines, encouraged her whole family to pre-register as New Jersey residents in December 2020. The registration process was not that straightforward for some students. Aigbekaen explained that “booking an appointment was a bit difficult at first.” Initially, he registered “through a system on the state government’s website but heard nothing for two weeks.” After hearing about a Twitter bot account that tweeted information about available vaccine appointments, Aigbekaen was finally able to schedule an appointment in Pennsauken, NJ at the beginning of April. A significant issue for students who got vaccination appointments off-campus was physically getting to the location, as most students don’t have cars on campus. Aigbekaen had to travel 34 miles, taking “three different trains and an Uber [on just] the one way journey.” He noted it was “quite hectic” but reasonably affordable. Garaffa explained that though her vaccine appointment was nearly 40 minutes away, the fact that her family lives 15 minutes away meant that a family member was easily able to drive her to her appointment. She noted that she did have to get permission from her Dean of Student Life to travel off-campus for her appointment. Students who were vaccinated off-campus got appointments at a variety of locations, with the most common being pharmacies. Garaffa stated that she was vaccinated

through the RWJ Hospital at “an expo center with military presence, so it was very efficient and very spread out.” Aigbekaen similarly noted that “the check-in was simple and the queue was not long at all so I was in and out within 30 minutes.” The students who opted to get vaccinated off-campus noted a variety of reasons for getting vaccinated and added benefits of now being vaccinated. McAlpine expressed his happiness at being able to walk outside without a mask, per the CDC’s new guidelines for vaccinated people. McAlpine is also a member of the Heavyweight Crew Team, which recently began participating in regatta’s locally. He noted that though vaccination isn’t required to participate in the competitions, “we took it upon ourselves to get vaccinated so that we wouldn’t be stopped from competing and we could keep training normally.” Garaffa explained that she got vaccinated because her family encouraged her to do so. Aigbekaen articulated the conscientious reason he chose to get vaccinated — a sentiment expressed by many people choosing to be vaccinated. “I believe that it’s my civic duty. Not only am I protecting myself, but I am also protecting my community members and helping with the effort to return back to pre-pandemic living.”

Mark Dodici / The Daily Princetonian

Mark Dodici / The Daily Princetonian


The Class of 2022 returned back to campus for their senior year on a hopeful note. After enduring a year and a half of virtual classes and social distancing, the group came back to campus fully in-person for the first time since 2020. Though mask-wearing and weekly testing were mandated, campus was slowly returning back to normal. Gone were the days of long-distance zoom calls, time-zone differences, and the Social Contract, in exchange for nights out on the Street street-hopping, Wawa runs, and Firestone Library study sessions, reminiscent of a time before COVID-19. The first day of classes came in with a bang, with a tornado warning welcoming students back to the first day of in-person learning since 2020. The beginning of the fall semester brought the University community together again, and students were able to attend the first in-person Lawnparties since 2019. Student favorites such as the Murray-Dodge Café and The Coffee Club reopened after 18 months of closure. The beginning of the fall semester also brought activism, with Nassau Hall becoming accessible for people with disabilities, the announcement of new accessible transit service, and sit-ins hosted by Divest Princeton . The class experienced another bonfire, the second during their time at Princeton. However, the fall semester was not all smooth sailing. The semester ended with a few bumps in the road, as a sharp rise in COVID cases reversed the campus atmosphere as students entered the last few weeks of classes. Even though the semester ended with “remote-format” finals and an urge to leave campus at the “earliest possible convenience”, the Class of 2022 finished the Fall strong. Spring semester rolled around in a flurry of booster shots and grab-and-go dining, as the semester started off on a cautious note. Indoor mask mandates were lifted after the return from spring break, revealing the full faces of peers that had been hidden away for over a year and a half. Slowly but surely, campus slipped back into normality. The Class of 2022 prevailed through the hardship and is set to celebrate their accomplishments at the first in-person Reunions since 2019. It’s hard to say what the future will bring, but the Class of 2022 can step through the FitzRandolph Gate knowing they survived through some of the toughest months at Princeton, and came out successfully on the other side.

Dimitar Chakarov / The Daily Princetonian

October 1, 2021

NEWS | A$AP Ferg announced as new headliner two days before Lawnparties February 3, 2022

OPINION | Matter over mind: You’ll get out of this what it’s willing to give February 14, 2022

PROSPECT | Navigating doubts, hopes, and hormone replacement p . therapy at Princeton March 3, 2022

PROSPECT | These two years at Princeton March 3, 2022

OPINION | Reactions: Princeton to ditch the mask mandate and asymptomatic testing p . March 3, 2022

FEATURES | ‘Worthy of taking up space’: Jennifer Lee ’23 founds p . nonprofit to support Asian Americans with disabilities March 17, 2022

SPORTS | ‘Fifth is great, but we’re not satisfied’: Men’s track and field earns eight All-American honors at NCAA Indoor Championships March 21, 2022

SPORTS | Women’s basketball ousts Kentucky for second March Madness win in program history March 22, 2022

FEATURES | ‘First on Film’: Student-curated exhibit reflects on ‘the long journey’ of racial integration and inclusion at Princeton March 31, 2022

NEWS | We analyzed room draw; over 50% of available housing will be next to construction THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN


Dimitar Chakarov / The Daily Princetonian


Navigating doubts, hopes, and hormone replacement therapy at Princeton

By Anonymous | February 14, 2022

Content Warning: The following essay contains mentions of transphobia. hen the intake nurse at University Health Services (UHS) asked my reason for coming in, my heart raced. The person who checked me in that day had referred to me by my legal name — one which I had asked the University to stop using in reference to me at the end of the previous semester (pro tip: changing your name on TigerHub doesn’t change your name in the UHS system). I expected the worst when I blurted out, “Oh, I just had some questions. Um, about gender-affirming care.” She smiled. “Ah, like a consult?” When I nodded in reply, she took the data and vitals regularly obtained by intake nurses: temperature, blood pressure, any regular medications I was on, etc. When she left the room, I exhaled shakily and held my forehead in my hands. As I waited to be seen by the next practitioner, I thought back through the journey which led me to that room. Around a year prior, I “came out” to friends as nonbinary on a small social media account. Though the message was framed in a celebratory lens, I cried a bit while writing it. I would keep crying throughout the coming months, as I changed the pronouns I used (twice) and asked my professors to refer to me by a different name. I was not ashamed of who I was. Still, I was worried about how coming out would affect the way others perceived me. I was raised in an environment where being openly nonbinary was considered unprofessional. I spent several long, lonely nights awake wondering if my peers, employers, and professors would doubt my competency on the basis of my gender expression. I felt like I had to deal with socially transitioning largely on my own because the COVID-19 pandemic kept me at a distance from large parts of my support network. Changing the pronouns on Zoom, Slack, and Canvas, that I once proudly displayed as a sign of allyship, to ones that acknowledged my transition brought on bullets of sweat. I didn’t know when it was appropriate to correct those who knew of my social transition when they referred to me with gendered terms I didn’t identify with. No one gave me a roadmap to living authentically, and without one, I felt like I was flying blind, susceptible to so many mistakes along the way. I wanted so badly to find joy in my social transition. And at times, I did. One day, after a haircut that felt life-changing, I looked in the mirror and felt comfortable with my appearance for maybe the first time. I couldn’t stop smiling. But at other times, I felt the same way I had felt for much of my life: alien to the way others perceived me. Being referred to with gendered terms that didn’t match my identity took on a new level of pain after having finally admitted to others how I felt inside. Growing up facing expectations around the gender others wanted me to be brought with it panic and anguish — the awfulness of puberty making me look different from my sibling and cousins, the deep discomfort around wearing gendered clothing that I found so hard to explain to my parents. This panic and anguish found new avenues through which to plague me. One moment, I felt joy in expressing who I was. The next, I felt frustrated and confused.



It wasn’t until the summer after I had come out that I was able to settle into my gender expression and learn to navigate the social situations that came with it. I made the conscious choice to be “out” to my employers and the people I was interacting with. There were moments of embarrassment — awkwardness of trying to insert my pronouns into introductions, a plethora of misgenderings, etc. But they were learning experiences in how to navigate my gender expression in the “real world,” outside of college. I learned patience, graciousness, and honestly, how not to be bothered. My gender identity is a special part of who I am, but at the end of the day, just one small (and beautiful) part. I learned when it mattered to me to call attention to my gender identity and when it did not. In essence, I learned how to be myself and how to be happy being myself. And then, I really was happier than I had ever been: more confident, more sure of myself, and a whole lot less awkward. The following fall semester, I found a level of support that I could have only dreamed of previously through actively entering affinity spaces and spending time with an affirming network. The Gender + Sexuality Resource Center’s Gender Group gave me mentors who had been in my shoes and friends who were going through the same challenges. My eating club’s affinity group chat gave me a sense of belonging and no-judgment-camaraderie that I had feared I would no longer have easy access to. A graduate student mentor of mine generously lent a ridiculously sympathetic ear to me when I first asked her about the prospect of medically transitioning. I had spent years fantasizing about it. From middle school onward, I would spend hours watching Youtube videos of people who had gone through the process and shared their stories. But I was afraid. The support network that I gained enabled me to finally make the appointment I had spent so long considering. I went into it with so much anxiety. I wasn’t out to my parents, a situation which makes insurance complicated. And I grew up in a religious environment that was generally both anti-gay and anti-trans. (A therapist in high school once told me to consider whether regularly attending church would cure me of my LGBTQ+ feelings.) I had heard more horror narratives of trying to medically transition than positive ones. When the UHS practitioner finally came into the room where I had been waiting and asked me why I had come in, I started crying. I thought I was about to have to jump through hoops to get the care I wanted — to be diagnosed with “gender dysphoria” or to carefully recount my lifelong struggle with gender. I was afraid I hadn’t been out for long enough to be considered valid or stable, or that a comment would be made about whether my identity was some sort of bandwagoning fad. I hadn’t always had amazing experiences with UHS concerning my regular health problems, and my expectations were low. None of my fears came to light. I was met with only sympathy, kindness, and a professionalism that I didn’t expect to be granted as a trans person. UHS practices an “informed consent” model of gender-affirming care, which basically means that a practitioner will carefully explain to you the effects of hormone therapy, and if

you still want to go through with it, they’ll help you embark upon the process. After spending a generous amount of time explaining to me what it’s like to be on Hormone Replacement Therapy (HRT) in a friendly manner, my practitioner ordered blood work for me, and after everything came back in order, sent the necessary prescriptions to the local CVS. I found the prescription remarkably affordable without insurance. And I found it insanely relieving that my practitioner had both extensive clinical experience with patients on HRT and personal experience with the process. All my nervous questions were answered with gentleness. When I filled the prescription, I came back into UHS, and the same practitioner I initially saw coached me on how to self-administer the prescribed hormones through injection. I shook a bit from nerves, but I was allowed to take all the time I needed. It wasn’t scary, and it didn’t hurt. At the time of writing this, I’m a few months on HRT, and I’m the happiest I have ever been with my body. I’ve found that HRT has not confined me to express myself as the gender often associated with the “opposite” of the one I was assigned at birth, but instead has freed me to feel my best no matter what clothing I’m wearing. Physical changes are slow — I purposefully started on a low dose to make sure of this — but welcome. “Second puberty” is awkward at times, but thanks to the advice and support of friends (cis and trans alike), it’s never felt embarrassing. I look in the mirror, and I see myself. That’s a privilege everyone should enjoy. It’s not that I never have doubts or anxieties. The nice thing is that medical transition can be stopped at any time. Many changes aren’t as permanent as one might think. Stopping medical transition is not a sign of defeat or not being “trans enough.” Everybody should have the right to explore their gender identity and their options for gender expression. Medical transition is just one option. I’m writing all of this to say that you are the one who gets to write your story. Socially and medically transitioning can be scary. It has been for me. But it’s not as intimidating as you might think, and it’s not impossible. Transitioning has led me to love myself in ways I never thought I could. Being trans at Princeton — where student groups still invite transphobic speakers and prominent professors are openly anti-trans — is not always easy. But the easy thing, I’ve been told, is not equal to the right thing. We are so much more powerful when we live openly as ourselves. The person you are inside — just like the person I am inside — is gorgeous, vibrant, and deserving of love. Do right by the person inside you. It’s our job to love those who live authentically as their authentic selves, and I hope we all do it well. Here’s to doing so, together. Editor’s Note: The ‘Prince’ granted the author of this essay anonymity due to privacy and safety concerns. Self essays at The Prospect give our writers and guest contributors the opportunity to share their perspectives. This essay reflects the views and lived experiences of the author. If you would like to submit a Self essay, contact us at


Dimitar Chakarov / The Daily Princetonian

Reactions: Princeton to ditch the mask mandate and asymptomatic testing

March 3, 2022

On March 2, 2022, Princeton University announced that masks will not be required indoors in any setting except classes where a professor or TA chooses to mandate them from March 14 onwards. In addition, Princeton will now only test undergraduate students once a month — mostly to monitor COVID-19 spread on campus. We asked our columnists for their Reactions to this new shift.

“Individual responsibility” is an unacceptable response By Brittani Telfair, Senior Columnist Moving to a model of “individual responsibility” during a pandemic is ridiculous. Some Princeton students do not care about the wellbeing of their peers and thus will engage in high-risk behavior (like going to packed, maskless parties at eating clubs) without a second thought. Behaviors like these facilitate the spread of COVID-19. Without structures to keep us all safe, an individual can do “everything right” — mask, social distance, and limit their social interactions — and still contract COVID-19 because of the actions of other individuals. The policy change represents a failure of the administration to lead: instead of following science and taking steps to contain an infectious disease, they have chosen to perform a return to “normalcy.” This puts the most vulnerable members of our community — such as immunocompromised students who are still being forced to attend in-person classes — at serious risk. It also disregards that, frankly, some people do not want to contract COVID-19 at all regardless of how “severe” the infection is. Better late than never By David Piegaro, Contributing Columnist Vaccines work wonders. The most commonly-worn masks barely work. Those two facts should have led us to abandon the mask mandate last summer as vaccines became widely available. The truth of the matter is that COVID-19 poses a negligible risk to most boosted individuals. The very old and immunocompromised do face more risk, but Paxlovid (Pfizer’s protease inhibitor drug) and monoclonal antibodies offer effective treatment options to those most vulnerable of populations. One-way masking works! On top of that, air filtration and ventilation offer effective mitigation strategies at low compliance costs. Once a community is vaccinated, masks impose costs that are not justified by their negligible benefits. Those costs may not be huge burdens individually, but they add up and detract from our quality of life. What’s more, they’re symbols — ever-present reminders of the stress and difficulty of the last two years and the myriad frustrations that came along with our floundering response. It’s time to move on.

Seeing more of people’s faces is a great reminder that we are doing just that.

Delay your gratification for just a little longer! By Abigail Rabieh, Columnist When I come back from break, relaxed and refreshed, I know that going to precept will be wonderful. The idea of walking into a room and seeing everyone smiling and chatting unmasked is hard to imagine, but I cannot wait to experience it. However, I wonder if we could all wait just a bit longer. Seeing that 15 percent of the student body has had COVID-19 in the past two weeks has been hard for me to wrap my head around, and it is honestly scary. Though I scoffed at the prospect of getting sick when the campus case rates were low, I worry about my health now that the virus seems impossible to avoid. Long COVID-19 is still a mysterious illness, but some researchers estimate that of people who get COVID-19, 30 percent or more experience longterm symptoms. Even more than my own safety, I worry about my roommate, who is currently fighting another illness. A COVID-19 infection could be extremely dangerous for her recovery. There are many more community members for whom it could be worse. But now, it seems like we are throwing up our hands and giving up on controlling the disease. We have spent the entire year avoiding this exact scenario. Finals were moved online and even canceled last semester when 24 community members tested positive for COVID-19. I do not understand why we are easing restrictions when transmission is at an all-time high. The University’s March 2 email says that it wants us to get back to “a semblance of normality.” I attend class every day. I eat in the dining hall with friends. I can go to an eating club whenever I want. What is so far from normal about that? I want to stop wearing a mask as much as everyone else. I want to avoid the anxiety of submitting a test, not knowing what the results will say, and thinking through what plans I might have to cancel. But it makes no sense to remove these restrictions when COVID-19 is spreading so rapidly and posing a danger to our community. Ignoring our community’s most vulnerable By Ndeye Thioubou, Columnist In the recent email sent out by Provost Prentice and Executive Vice President Williams to the student and faculty body, there is an emphasis on taking responsible steps surrounding masking and the testing protocol. Yet it is hard to categorize these new updates to the protocol themselves as responsible when they don’t properly account for the immunocompromised student body. The memo praises the resilience of the undergraduate student body after a week with over 300

cases of COVID-19. But undergraduates shouldn’t have to be dealing with such a high caseload in the first place. For immunocompromised students, the removal of the mask mandate and testing requirement will only compound the anxiety of the past couple of weeks. With only one required test per month, an asymptomatic, COVID-19-positive student could attend class unmasked and potentially spread the virus to others without anyone ever knowing due to the wide time range between required tests. What accommodations will be made for immunocompromised students who don’t feel comfortable being in unmasked classrooms, even if they are wearing a mask? These students will likely be provided with Zoom links (if anything is done to accommodate them at all), but then they have to make the choice between their health and an optimal, in-person academic experience. The University optimistically notes that cases have been mild for students, but that might not be the case after the relaxation of testing and masking restrictions. Naturally, a reduction in testing and more unmasked situations will allow COVID-19 to spread quicker on campus, and likely reach more immunocompromised students. It has been shown that preexisting conditions can lead to severe symptoms from COVID-19. In the removal and loosening of testing and masking restrictions, the University is only further marginalizing a group that is already marginalized on campus — immunocompromised students.

A decision that reflects a shifting narrative By Prince Takano, Contributing Columnist In early February, several Democratic states rolled back their mask mandates, citing a noticeable decline in cases and hospitalizations. These rollbacks occurred despite the firm recommendation to keep the mandates from the CDC, which declared on Feb. 8 that “Now is not the moment [to drop mask mandates].” In the short span of about two weeks, The Science™ conveniently changed and the CDC reversed its position, maintaining that an indoor mask requirement was no longer necessary for most of the United States. The University’s new mask guidelines reflect this sudden shift in “The Science.” Although nearly every state is still experiencing a “high” level of community transmission, mask mandates continue to fall away and Princeton is no exception. Ultimately, these new University mask guidelines are not a surprising development, given that the CDC has recently embraced the strategy of “learning to live with COVID-19,” following Democratic governors and the Biden Administration, who have realized that militant masking is a political loser, especially in an election year.

The University’s COVID-19 policies have largely reflected the CDC’s recommendations ever since the beginning of the pandemic, which helps to explain the sudden shift in the University’s masking policy despite the recent surge in cases on campus. The University’s new mask guidelines seem to be a downstream effect of a political development rather than strictly based on the public health facts. Princeton got the timing just right By Christofer Robles, Contributing Columnist This coming March will mark the two-year anniversary of the first global COVID-19 shutdowns and the dawn of an era defined by masks, social distancing, and learning what PCR stands for. Over the past two years, there have been recurring fears of overwhelmed hospitals and the overall health of the population. But after two years, these fears may finally be laid to rest. The end of the pandemic era is near and Princeton has made the appropriate decision to move away from its previous testing and mask policies. It is undeniable that there has been a dramatic surge in cases among undergraduate students, but this is, and will continue to be, the new normal. We have worn masks, tested frequently, and accepted unilateral policies because it has been for the greater benefit of the general population of the University and of the people around us that we do so. But as our public health tools have adapted to COVID-19, we have been able to move away from these restrictions. The situation is looking better nationally. The CDC reports an 18.8 percent decrease in the current seven-day moving average of new deaths, as of Feb. 25 — a figure that continues to show a decline. This is in large part due to breakthroughs in vaccinations over the last year, with 64.8 percent of the total U.S. population being fully vaccinated and 88.75 percent of people aged 65 years or older being fully vaccinated. Locally, 99 percent of the Princeton undergraduate population is fully vaccinated, there have been no COVID-19 related hospitalizations among University members, and the CDC has assessed that Mercer County poses a “Low” COVID risk, recommending mask wearing be based on “your personal preference, informed by your personal level of risk.” It is never good to be sick. But the University has been able to transition to a place where we can have crowded dining halls, in-person lectures, and even a spike in COVID-19 cases without sacrificing the safety of the student body. The personal choices to continue to wear a mask, socially distance, and be COVID-19 conscious continue to exist; these choices, however, must be made individually. The University has chosen an appropriate time to roll back its previous policies and I believe we are even closer to a post-COVID-19 era. THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN


Annie Rupertus / The Daily Princetonian


The Class of 2022, by the numbers By Daily Princetonian Staff | April 29. 2022

Welcome to The Daily Princetonian’s inaugural survey of the senior class. The data within these pages — compiled and verified through months of planning, analysis, and outreach — tell the story of the Great Class of 2022, the last graduating cohort to enjoy a full academic year prior to the COVID-19 pandemic. Our far-reaching project seeks to better understand the diverse intricacies of the University’s departing undergraduates. Though Nassau Hall publicly reports some specifics on demographics and academics, other data — such as respondents’ experiences with alcohol and the Honor Code — are difficult, if not impossible, to find. The majority of statistics within this project represent figures to which the wider University community has never been privy. Five hundred and sixteen students, comprising 41.4 percent of the Class of 2022, responded to our inquiries. We compiled the survey’s 130+ questions in a Google Form and distributed them via email. The form remained open from March 14 to March 29, 2022.


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Scan for the full scurvey THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN


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‘Worthy of taking up space’: Jennifer Lee ’23 founds nonprofit to support Asian Americans with disabilities


n June 2020, after months of doctors appointments and medical testing, Jennifer Lee ’23 was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. Although she had many of the typical symptoms of the condition, Lee said her doctors at first hesitated to consider Crohn’s because of its rarity among Asian Americans. “Since the beginning of my journey with chronic illness,” Lee said, “I began to see how my Asian American identity was influencing not only how I perceived my illness and my body, but how even medical professionals were perceiving disability and diagnosis processes.” After her diagnosis, Lee sought out communities like the Crohn’s and Colitis Young Adults Network and the Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation’s National Council of College Leaders. But even in groups with other disabled young adults, Lee felt like her Asian American identity set her apart from her peers. “I quickly found that I didn’t see people who looked like myself, and so for the longest time, I thought that I was the only person who felt this way, that I didn’t have anyone else to talk to about the specific cultural stigmas around disability, what it was like to be of two marginalized identities — to be both Asian American and disabled,” she said. Although Lee may have felt alone, she is one of over 1.3 million Americans who identify as both Asian American and disabled. After meeting other people who shared her identities during the American Association of People with Disabilities (AAPD) internship program in summer 2021, Lee decided to form a group dedicated to this intersection. In July 2021, along with a coalition of disabled Asian Americans and nondisabled allies from around the country, Lee founded the Asian Americans with Disabilities Initiative (AADI), a nonprofit run by and for people like her who identify as both Asian American and disabled. Lee now serves as executive director of AADI and manages an executive team of around 20–25 people at any given time. “The overarching mission of AADI is to amplify disabled Asian American voices and to provide the next generation of disabled Asian Americans with the tools, resources, and infrastructure to thrive in a world that has not historically always welcomed them,” Lee said. In its short existence, AADI has already made great strides toward accomplishing its mission of increasing the visibility of the disabled and Asian American community and providing resources on how to live in a world not built to accommodate either group. AADI began with what Lee calls a “three-pronged vision.” She hoped to publish a resource guide for disabled Asian Americans, host speaker panels and events with people involved in Asian American and disability advocacy, and form a community of disabled and Asian-American peers.


By Naomi Hess | February 15, 2022 On all three fronts, AADI has made tangible progress. On Jan. 10, after months of preparation, AADI launched their resource guide, an 80-page document described on the AADI website as a guide “to combat ableism within the disabled Asian American community through first person testimonials, comprehensive peer-reviewed research, and briefs from AADI events.” AADI’s research committee compiled collections of academic research, lessons on allyship, and profiles of Asian American and disabled activists for inclusion in the guide. AADI received support from the TigerWell Initiative and Service Focus as they developed the guide. “We had recognized that in the field of academia, there is very little research that has been done on the intersection of disability and Asian American identity, and the reason why that’s so important is because this kind of research directly informs and feeds into what policy looks like,” Lee said about the importance of the section on academic research. The audience for the research guide, and AADI as a whole, encompasses a wide range of stakeholders, according to Megan Liang, a program manager at San Diego State University and AADI’s director of external relations. As an Asian American amputee, Liang became involved with AADI after seeing them highlighted on social media. “Whether you are a disabled Asian American, an ally, a social worker, or you only identify as disabled or you only identify as Asian American, you’re able to take away a new perspective on how this community handles things and the issues that they may face,” Liang said. “And even if it’s a small impact of change, I’m just happy that we’re able to make it.” AADI has hosted two speaker events so far. The first speaker panel was on Aug. 13, 2021, featuring Lydia X.Z. Brown, Miso Kwak, and Mia Ives-Rublee, three disabled Asian American activists. The event was virtual, and included American Sign Language (ASL) interpreters and captioning services. Over 50 people attended the event, according to Lee. “​​This panel kind of served as the starting point,” Lee said. “[The panelists talked] about the intersection of these two identities themselves, any difficulties that our speakers might have encountered while navigating the space, as well as advice they had for other younger, disabled Asian Americans who are watching.” More recently, on Jan. 29, AADI held another virtual panel focused on the intersection of art, disability, and being Asian American. Comedian Steve Lee, poet Topaz Winters ’23, and dancer Marisa Hamamoto spoke at the event. “I was on the panel with several other artists who are Asian American and disabled, so we talked a lot about how our Asian American identities fit in with our work in dis-

ability advocacy, as well as our arts work,” Winters said. “The three streams of my identity — of being an artist, being a disabled person and being Asian — they’re not really streams that cross very often in my advocacy work or in my artistic work,” they added. “It was really special for me to be amongst a group of people who very much understood what that was like and the unique challenges but also the unique joys of existing in these three beautiful spaces, and just expanding definitions of what those spaces can be.” The final goal of forming a community of disabled Asian American peers has been accomplished, so far, in a largely virtual setting. Most of the people involved in AADI have never met in person. “It’s a matter of just highlighting the community, and for me, part of what AADI does is it shows that disabled Asian Americans and our experiences are worthy of taking up space,” Lee said. “I knew the second that I found AADI, I’d found a specific kind of community that I wouldn’t be able to find if I hadn’t otherwise sought it out,” Liang said. “My hope is that we’re able to host more community-based events in the future because I do understand how empowering it is to be amongst folks who have shared living experiences.” In the months to come, AADI plans to continue its outreach efforts and spread its mission of accessibility and inclusion for the Asian American and disabled community. Jiyoun Roh ’24 serves as AADI’s director of outreach and is tasked with managing the organization’s social media. Roh’s brother has cerebral palsy, and she became interested in disability justice after noticing how his disability led to a lack of inclusion for him in the Asian American community. “We want accessibility to be more than just a disability community,” Roh said. “We want it in further AAPI organizations.” “We are getting a lot of collaborations with a lot of other organizations and in conjunction with them, we want to build our own community because a community is made better by the people in it,” she continued. Lee hopes that the conversations started during the COVID-19 pandemic about racial justice and chronic illness continue in the future. “I think in this COVID-19 pandemic era, we are faced with an extraordinary opportunity to redefine how we understand the disabled experience and how we understand the Asian American experience,” Lee said. She looks forward to expanding the advocacy work AADI has carried out in the six months since its founding. “The more work we do in the disability, Asian American, and nonprofit space, the more our team is realizing that there are many definitions of success in terms of what our mission can achieve,” Lee said.


Dimitar Chakarov / The Daily Princetonian

Pomp and Circumstance 1 6 10 14 15 16 17 19 20 21 22 25 26 29 31 32 33 35 36 40 41 42 44 46 49 50 51 52 53 55 57 61 62 63 64 65 66

ACROSS First island referenced in The Beach Boys’ “Kokomo” IRS IDs Looped in, for short Pitch, as an idea Suffix with social Little bit *“Lemme be real with you for a minute...” Vodka ___ Driving areas? The S of SF Yoga sounds Little heroine of Dickens’s “The Old Curiosity Shop” *“My stars!” Real nobody Make official? Kiss, to Harry Potter Give second thoughts Garment with cups *Pals, big time “___ All That,” 2021 spinoff film starring Addison Rae Below Dance at a Jewish wedding Goddess of the hunt They come in “Flamin’ Hot” and “Dinamita” varieties *“___, so sad!” State bird of Hawaii Mac alternatives Real jag, for short Given name of Four in the “Divergent” series Crosword, e.g. Phrase often heard at Commencement ... or a hint to the first words of the starred clues Little look “___ Misbehavin’,” Fats Waller classic No-no Disease outbreak of 2003 Portend Big name in shapewear

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 18 21 22 23 24 26 27 28 30 31 34 37 38 39 40 43 45 47 48 50 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60

DOWN Fitting Young friend of Winnie the Pooh Certain port Ein pilsner, zum Beispiel Available Like Atticus Finch of “To Kill a Mockingbird,” or Gru of “Despicable Me” Ready oneself Noted loch It boomed, once Loud bug Spot for a large party “I’ll be there in 5,” e.g.: Abbr.t Actor Aykroyd Beginning of time? He-Man’s twin sister Breakfast bevs Lil Nas X #1 hit “Wow!” moment Wilson of “The French Dispatch” Share files from iPhone to iPhone ___ vaccine Partners in Health, e.g.: Abbr. Say some questionable stuff Direction from Belg. to Bulg. Certain sneakers Oklahoma city named after a Camelot woman The Sixers, on scoreboards It can be tipped ... or collect tips Ornery sort Some Kindle purchases “Roger that” Gasps, e.g. To ___ (forever). Nirvana or Cream, e.g. Make like Will Smith at the Oscars Pulls a certain prank, for short Passing remark? Chat Dr. J’s org. Luke, to Darth Vader (spoiler alert!) Beantown squad

By Gabriel Robare and Juliet Corless

Scan me for solutions!



Dimitar Chakarov / The Daily Princetonian Angel Kuo / The Daily Princetonian

This year’s Graduate Class A letter from the Graduate Student Government Executive Board To the talented Class of 2022, Congratulations on your graduation! What a wonderful achievement that showcases your strength and potential. We celebrate your accomplishments and the impact you have made during your time here. We’re confident that you will continue to carry the diligence, determination, and brilliance that you brought with you to Princeton out into the world, making it a better place for everyone just as you made Princeton that much better during your time here. What a bittersweet moment: we’re indescribably happy and sorry to see you go and enter the next chapter of your lives. Speaking of which, we encourage you to stay connected with the Princeton community! Our alumni network is strong and Princetonians maintain a tight-knit group. Reunions are coming up soon and are a terrific opportunity each year to stay in touch with other Princeton graduate alumni. Be on the lookout for newsletters and invitations to maintain contact with your cohort and Princeton in general, wherever life may take you. Congratulations again on your achievement! The 2021–2022 Graduate Student Government Executive Board 28 THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN

This year’s departing graduate class saw campus life return to some semblance of normalcy after nearly two years of life and study shaped by the COVID-19 pandemic. While undergraduate students were met with a large swath of social resources as COVID-19 restrictions were lifted, graduate students had to navigate rebuilding a community alienated from University life. As the Graduate Student Government planned formals and happy hours at the DBar (Princeton Graduate Debasement Bar), some students hesitantly opted for smaller gatherings instead in response to frequently changing guidelines. Members of the graduate student community pushed back against the University’s lack of remote learning options at the start of the Spring 2022 semester — a reminder that the pandemic’s effects still persisted.

While many aspects of University life returned to the way they were, graduate student life also saw some welcome changes. In December 2021, the University broke ground on the Lake Campus. Within the next three years, the new campus will house 600 graduate students and postdoctoral researchers. Following graduate student strikes at Columbia, the University announced the largest ever one-year increase in graduate student stipend rates. This coming 2022–2023 academic year will see an average increase of 25 percent in fellowship and stipend rates. As this year’s graduate class steps out of the Orange Bubble, they shepherd in a new history for graduate students on this campus. They will return to an increasingly familiar but fundamentally different world — ready to face it with their proven resilience and unwavering wisdom.

January 25, 2022

NEWS | University announces largest one-year increase in graduate student stipend rates February 8, 2022

FEATURES | Bridging the gap: Graduate student life in the Orange March 24, 2022

OPINION | The obligation to act: how Princeton University can promote housing justice

Dimitar Chakarov / The Daily Princetonian


Bridging the gap: Graduate student life in the Orange Bubble By Sydney Eck | February 8, 2022


rom weekend parties to meals in dining halls to extracurricular opportunities, Princeton undergraduates have many resources to turn to when they want to meet new people or spend time with familiar faces. Indeed, the close-knit undergraduate experience is often listed as one of the draws of the University to prospective applicants, particularly the statistic that 98 percent of undergraduates live on campus. But for graduate students, the Orange Bubble looks and feels different. With limited and often arbitrarily assigned residential spaces, meager options for socializing, and a narrow dating pool, some graduate students feel alienated from University life — while others have found pockets of community and exciting ways to engage, especially as Princeton emerges from COVID-19 restrictions. “Grad and undergrad are very separate here,” said Mauro Windholz, a third-year graduate student. “My roommate goes to 2D [a food coop] … but I’m not a member, so anytime I have socialized with undergrads it is with him.” While the vast majority of Princeton undergraduates get the on-campus residential experience Princeton lauds, graduate students’ living situations are far more varied. Housing is not guaranteed for all graduate students, and priority is given to first-year students and decreases as students progress through their degree. Students’ social experiences are heavily influenced by which of the University’s eight “on-campus” housing options they live in. Ross Teixeira GS discussed the Old Graduate College, reflecting on the social structure it cultivates. “If you live in the grad college, it’s much more common that people meet bumping into each other at dinner or in the hallway,” he said. “I was always in the apartments, so I never really met people like that.” “I used to live in the grad college,” said Windholz. “There are plenty of opportunities for socialization there.” The Princeton Graduate Debasement Bar (DBar) is a popular spot among the students living in the Old Graduate College. DBar is located in the basement of the Old Graduate College and serves “resident and non-resident members of the graduate college.” “The bar in the basement is great because it makes socializing really accessible,” said Tom Postma GS. Graduate students also frequent Ivy Inn, a “no frills bar” on Nassau Street. “In terms of going out, Ivy Inn and DBar are definitely the most poppin’,” said Isaac Christian GS. Christian discussed events and activities sponsored by the Graduate Student Government (GSG), including formals and weekly happy hours often sponsored by DBar. In the fall semester, Christian DJ’ed for

the Graduate Student Formal. “DJ’ing the formal was a banger,” said Christian. “And nowadays there is something to do every single weekend. I sponsor the socials in the grad college, leading the social charge, sending out creative emails and setting up the drinks.” Teixeira elaborated further on events sponsored by GSG, stating, “typically, when there aren’t COVID restrictions, there are the monthly parties hosted at Campus Club and a ball twice a year, plus weekly social hours and happy hours.” Cara Turnbull GS reflected on events sponsored by GSG, commenting that they can be inaccessible to students who live off campus. “There aren’t a lot of ways to get to campus,” said Turnbull. “A lot of the events center around drinking and free drinks, so when you live far, that can be tricky with driving. It’s nicer living downtown in Princeton, but even then, it is a 30-minute walk to DBar, and the buses can be difficult to use.” Even as large graduate student-organized events begin to return, some students are opting for smaller social gatherings in light of the ongoing pandemic and ever-changing guidelines. “I mostly go to small dinner parties, either in someone’s house or going out to eat, when public health allows for that sort of thing,” said Jenny Beck GS. Distance from campus and public health concerns aside, graduate student social life is complicated by another factor: the reality of a broad spectrum of life experiences and living situations. While some graduate students are married and have children, others only recently completed their undergraduate programs. And when it comes to romantic lives, those differences are felt all the more. Beck began her graduate career at Princeton married, and “felt a little strange” being one of few married students in her program. After her divorce, she began using dating apps. “I would switch my location to New York or Philadelphia for dates — there aren’t a lot of people to meet in Princeton,” Beck said. “It’s challenging to date in grad school in general,” Christian agreed. “So many people already have a significant other, and they are spending less time with a solid group of friends.” Teixeira noted that however small the Princeton dating pool may seem, there are even fewer LGBTQ+ dating prospects in the area. “It takes a lot of luck,” said Teixeira, who now lives in Philadelphia and commutes to campus. “It can lead people to leave campus.” Many graduate students do not consider dating undergraduate students due to their different stages of life and circumstances. “There’s a difference in culture between under-

grad and grad school,” said Teixeira. But some romantic relationships between graduate students and undergraduates have been successful. “I know people who are with grad students,” said Rachel Chen ’24. “And sometimes my friends see the grad students come up on Tinder or other apps like that and will meet up.” Many graduate students are interested in becoming more involved in the greater Princeton community beyond individual social relationships with fellow students and peers. However, these graduate students have had difficulty taking part in events, activities, and traditions dominated by undergraduates and regulated by the Office of the Dean of Undergraduate Studies (ODUS). “The general frustration of grad students on campus with regards to social things is that campus social life is tailored so heavily towards the undergrads. It feels separate,” Teixeira said. “Some groups do it better, like some affinity groups. But sports, theater, a cappella … some of those groups don’t even allow grad students to join.” Teixeira clarified that while there are certainly groups that do accept graduate students, the undergraduate focus can make such activities harder to join and difficult to navigate socially. “I think there is a lot of bias and legacy in the admissions process into these groups, so it seems like there is a kind of unwillingness to admit grad students into these groups,” Teixeira said. “If you are admitted, it can create a strange dynamic where you are the only grad student hanging out with a ton of undergrads.” Some graduate students, barred from pursuing their interests on campus either by the constraints of undergraduate life or cultural differences, seek out social activities in New York City or Philadelphia. “I miss Forro, a kind of partner dance we do in Brazil. I’ve looked at events in New York. It’s not something that I can do with people here,” said Windholz. Ultimately, the graduate students who spoke with The Daily Princetonian said they felt they have a lot to be grateful for within their Princeton social experience — despite the difficulties posed by the University’s undergraduate focus. “I feel really lucky to be at Princeton and to have that stability and my close community of colleagues and friends,” Beck said. Christain agreed, reflecting on how his graduate school social experience has impacted him outside of academics. “Something I’ve learned at Princeton is that having all these different people around me has made me a better person,” he said. THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN





Long Live the Class of By Naomi Hess


“Long live all the magic we made And bring on all the pretenders, I’m not afraid Long live all the mountains we moved I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you”

I cannot claim to have written the previous paragraph. The writer is the one and only Taylor Swift, in her song “Long Live.” In a way, Taylor welcomed me to Princeton, when my Community Action (CA) group explored a whole exhibit about her on our trip to the Grammy Museum in Newark, N.J. As a huge fan of her music, it seems appropriate to conclude our time at Princeton through Taylor’s words as well. The Magic We Made Our four years here have been magical, largely due to the community we’ve created together. We attended classes where we learned from world-renowned professors. The academic community motivated us to become better thinkers and learners. We’ve been surrounded by incredible people from different places and backgrounds. Our greatest learning experiences may not have occurred in the classrooms or lecture halls, but in Murray Dodge Café, at late meal, and in the dining halls. Hours-long conversations with friends and even strangers have made us laugh out loud and rethink our previous views. We were able to find our own homes within the larger campus community. My circle of friends, fondly named “Old Folks Home” after the Triangle Club song, as well as the amazing people part of The Daily Princetonian are treasured parts of my Princeton 32 THE DAILY PRINCETONIAN

experience. The friends we made and groups we belonged to brought the magic of Princeton to life. Our class made this beautiful campus and town into our home. We’ve experienced shared traditions, from the Pre-Rade in 2018 to two bonfires in honor of our football victories to the two-years-late Declaration Day this April. We’ve become frequent customers at The Bent Spoon, Tacoria, and Hoagie Haven. We’ve gone on spontaneous adventures and late-night escapades, creating memories we’ll cherish for years to come. Ultimately, we all have our own moments reminding us of the magic of the Princeton community, a community that extends long into the future as we graduate and become Tigers in the wild. The Mountains We Moved Class of 2022, we indeed moved mountains throughout our time here. Our class has been instrumental in movements to make the University better than the way we found it. Woodrow Wilson’s name was removed from the residential college and the School of Public and International Affairs, partly due to the advocacy of our classmates. Members of the Class of 2022 participated in activism for Title IX reform, climate justice, a renewed focus on mental health, and so much more. Our classmates made their voices heard as they stood up for what they believed in. “Princeton in the Nation’s Service” may sound like a lofty ideal, but if we keep that goal in mind as we’ve done throughout our time here, we all have the potential to move more mountains in the future. Fighting Dragons with You

The past four years haven’t been easy by any means; we’ve fought a lot of dragons. Princeton is undoubtedly a challenging place. We were tested academically and mentally in our classes and independent work, but we persevered. Our class didn’t expect to leave campus during sophomore year due to COVID-19. The pandemic was an unwelcome interruption to our academic experience. It was also a source of illness, isolation, and grief for so many of us. However, in some ways, being apart brought us closer. Together, we lived through an unprecedented event — even if the word unprecedented was used so much that the term became, well, precedented. We put intentional efforts into our friendships and sought out ways to stay connected when we were physically separated. This became motivation to make the most of our time on campus when we could return. Even with all these dragons, we made it through four years here, and we did it together, united as one class. That’s something to be proud of. Long Live Our time at Princeton is coming to a close. But as Taylor sings in “Long Live,” “We will be remembered.” The Class of 2022 will be remembered for our contributions to the campus community and for persisting in our education during a pandemic. No matter what happens next, we can continue the relationships we’ve formed as we make more magic together in the world beyond FitzRandolph Gate. I thank you, Class of 2022, for making the past four years so wonderful. I truly have had the time of my life, with you.