Excessive Firestone security excludes some from academia
I'm one of those gray-haired old people who sit in the back of the lecture hall. One of the five courses I signed up to audit this fall was COM 323: Modern Latin American Fiction, which meets for lecture Fridays at 9 a.m. in Firestone 3-8-J.
Before classes began, I had a premonition that a location with the word "Firestone" in its name might prove troublesome.
Anyway, when I walked in the lobby of Firestone on Sept. 15 for the first lecture, I was told I could not enter the sacred precincts because I did not have a library membership — something that costs over $400 and something that I had no intention of purchasing, living as I am on a public school teacher's pension. I explained that all I wanted to do was sit in 3-8-J and take notes. I had no ulterior motives for entering Firestone. I did not even want to glance at any of its millions of books or documents.
In a state of frustration mixed with disbelief, I headed for 321 Nassau Hall to ask for help from the people who run the community auditing program. They said there was nothing they could do. If they had known the lecture was going to be in Firestone, they would have told me ahead of time that the course was off limits.
I explained again that I wanted to enter Firestone only to attend a lecture. I would depart at 9:50 a.m. when it ended and would neither loiter about the library nor use any of its facilities. I was willing to sign a document agreeing that I would pay an enormous fine if found in the library at any time other than from 8:55 a.m. to 9:55 a.m. Friday mornings. Sorry, they said, there was nothing anyone could do.
So now I need to know: What's so valuable in Firestone library to prevent people like me — an alumnus of this great university — from getting near it for just an hour? Perhaps the Ark of the Covenant is stored in the basement? The Holy Grail? Einstein's brain? C. Thomas Corwin '62
Proposed alcohol ordinance may be necessary precaution
The Sept. 14 issue of the 'Prince' mentioned MIT's $4.75 million settlement with the parents of a young man who drank himself to death, and the school's new commitment to "sweeping policy changes . . . to crack down on underage drinking."
Flipping a few pages ahead to the editorials and opinions page, the 'Prince' Commentary and Letters to the Editor sections viewed Princeton Borough's proposed alcohol ordinance as "a gross infringement on student rights."
Perhaps we, too, should wait until a death of an underage Princetonian. Niraj Bhatt '03