A Village Called Princeton</p>
<p>By Avril David '05</p>
<p>At some point during their academic experience, every Princeton student hears the charming statistic that seventy percent of Princeton graduates marry other Princeton graduates. Whether as the result of relationships formed during their undergraduate years or the product of chance meetings typical of reunion celebrations, the men and women involved in this unique academic journey tend to marry one another.</p>
<p>Though I myself was initially charmed by this statistic, Ive grown somewhat more suspicious after spending nearly two and a half years here at Princeton University and have been driven to seek the cause of this seventy percent phenomenon. To shed light on the issue, Id like to draw on the work of a Japanese author and scholar, Murakami Haruki. Mr. Murakami was a visiting professor at Princeton University about ten years ago. During his stay, he wrote a number of essays about his observations of life at Princeton. Murakamis essay, entitled A Village Called Princeton, describes the he isolation felt in the face of two seemingly minor aspects of Princeton lifethe morning newspaper
and beer.</p>
<p>Murakamis finding was that Princeton students generally read two newspapersThe New York Times and The Daily Princetonian. Though Murakami found the Trenton Times and the Princeton Packet to be fun and interesting and a useful way to keep up to date on the community that we live in, he quickly learned to hide this fact. Murakami came to understand that newspapers for the cultural elite (i.e. the more expensive ones) were much more accepted and widely read. Murakami was also a fan of drinking beers like Budweiser, Miller, and other cheap alcoholic beverages. Murakami learned to deny this as well, after having been met with condescending looks for his lack of enthusiasm for more elite and expensive cocktails. Whether or not this is typical of most Princeton students perception of beer and newspapers, I can vouch for the elitism from a personal experience that I had with (forgive me) Burger King. Once (ONCE), I wanted to get some food with a friend of mine at the end of a break and suggested that we grab a bite at Burger King. Its cheap, and I figure if I eat at Frist anyway its just as fattening. My friend, whom I trust(ed) and respect(ed) honestly said to me, Do you really want to sink that low? Burger King? Needless to say, we got overpriced soup and bread from Panera instead.</p>
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<p>What typifies a village? Usually its a small community, with customs and traditions only understood on the inside, reluctance to change, often with a particular language or dialect and wariness of outsiders. What I have found in dealing with friends and family from home is that, at times, simple aspects of our lives here at Princeton (that are not actually necessary to gaining from and appreciating the experience) place a distance between outsiders and ourselvesa distance that people really notice and feel. For example, I no longer say the Wa. Why? Again, I initially found this to be cute, despite the fact that Im from south Jersey and have seen and always called these stores Wawas. Wanting to be understood and Princetonian like the other students, I (like everyone else) picked up the unique lingo. Not surprisingly, when my best friend from high school came to visit, he was confused rather than enlightened when I told him Id meet him at the dinky (rather than shuttle trainas many campuses haveand he would have understood) and we could pick up a snack at the Wa.</p>
<p>When I cant talk to my own best friend, thats where I draw the line. What Ive found is that I dont want an experience so unique that I cant relate to the people who eat at Burger King or the townie who asks if Ive got a light. No, I dont have a light, but hey, were all people here, its cool to ask. A good friend of mine recently made friends with a community college student working on Nassau Street. As she spoke with him, she was struck by the image of the gate to Princeton University across from the coffee shop they were in. It was just across the street, yet it was a world away.</p>
<p>If four years can make us so different from the general population that we are unable to speak with, to party with, to eat with outsiders, then perhaps the marriage statistic is evidence of the side of Princeton that cant relate, and that would really prefer not to. Are we afraid of what well find on the other side? People who arent at Princeton but who are nevertheless good people, interesting people? People from whom we could learn from them every bit as much as they can learn from us? That perhaps were not so special and divine that were unquestionably deserving of such privilege and prestige?</p>
<p>I honestly think were just ridiculously lucky. I know I have an easy life. If I really want to do something, because of Princeton, I can. If I want, I can fly around the world to study, get money to make up my own projects, then eat gourmet food while forming business connections with alumni to guarantee that this lifestyle never ends. If anything, were lucky, not betterand certainly not untouchable. If we open ourselves up, we have to accept that not everyone has it this easy, and not everyone had the right circumstances, the right chances, to be able to get here.</p>
<p>Collectively, the people here at Princeton have a seemingly endless wealth of knowledge and expertisebrilliant minds and talents and resources. But if we can only make sense of the world from within, without truly being open to it, then what is it all worth? If we build up walls of unique and empty Princeton bonds (the Wa?), were only deepening a non-existent division between the greater community and ourselves. So, my point is not that you have to go out and marry a townie (though that would be cool too), but rather be open to the idea that the world does not have to be solely Princeton-based, and maybe its a good thing if outsiders can understand us too.</p>
<p>Avril can be reached at <a href=“mailto:adavid@princeton.edu”>adavid@princeton.edu</a>.