The spirit of honor
The word "honor" occasionally floats down into everyday speech like the ghost that someone saw on the staircase. Its meaning, somewhat mysterious, amorphous, elevated and even a little disturbing, seems like a breath out of the past that did not make it to the present, a thing that has withered to something so slight that it can pass through a wall. Once it was so important to men and women that they regularly affirmed its value through bloody duels, but now it has become almost incomprehensible. What does it mean to have honor? It is hard to come up with a solid definition. And yet only 51 years ago, William Faulkner in his Nobel Prize acceptance speech designated it one of the "old verities and truths of the heart."
Likewise, 57 years before Faulkner's speech, President James McCosh established a code to promote honorable behavior here at Princeton. Now it sometimes seems difficult to think of it except as a deterrent against cheating and other forms of academic dishonesty. Students seem to sign the pledge with a mechanical thoughtlessness, more out of a sense of compulsion than out of a personal confession of the precepts of honor — though its importance demands that we constantly reconsider and review its meaning with every signature. This is not to say that the students today are any less honorable than those of the past, but it does suggest that the penalties for infraction motivate students far more than the code's original spirit.
This past month at the University of Virginia, a physics professor turned over 122 of his students to the honor committee on suspicion of plagiarism, certainly a major test for a school which prides itself on the sense of honor it encourages in its students. And while the outside world may see this event as a major failure for the university's honor code, to us it stands in a very different light. U.Va.'s honor code would not be able to survive such a misfortune if only a small, conservative minority supported it. But the university's students and professors continue to take pride in the preservation of the honor tradition. Rather than having a hollow system exposed, the recent case reveals just how rich and alive U.Va.'s honor code is today.
Were such a crisis to happen at Princeton, we should hope that the University would stick to its standards — no matter the cost. Otherwise, the honor code is not even worth having, and McCosh's vision for a spirit of Princetonian honor would now simply be a ghost of the past. — Peyton Bowman '02 — Lee Williams '02 Editorial Page Editors
Taking the time to consider the feelings of other people
I would like to express my sincere gratitude for the column by Anonymous who so courageously wrote, "The importance of stepping into another's shoes." I found myself desperately hoping that the careless, rude person driving the SUV would read the column and then live a life full of remorse. I realize that even if he does happen to glance over it, denial and self-defense will probably not allow him to gain anything from what Anonymous wrote. I do want you to know, however, that your article did make an impact on me and I am not quite sure what I need to do, but I know that I should do something — perhaps writing this is a beginning.
While I cannot relate specifically to the pain Anonymous has encountered in his life because of his weight, I do know what it is to suffer — due both to a personal experience and that of those closest to me.
Lately I have been asking myself the same question Anonymous raised at the end of his article: How can we use Princeton as a means not only to develop our minds but also our compassion? If "being beautiful people" and climbing the corporate ladder are our only goals in life, I'm afraid we're going to have to step on a lot of humanity along the way — and at the end of the day will our own monetary "success" outweigh a life led without compassion for others?
I sincerely doubt it.
If we cannot slow down long enough to realize that we must develop respect and compassion for others before we are able to become responsible, moral citizens of the Princeton community, the nation and the world, then this education has meant nothing. Lily Tomlin once said that "the trouble with the rat race is that even if you win, you're still a rat." Let' s be humans, not rats. Sallie Langston '03
Novice lightweight women's crew takes first in grand final
I am a rower for the novice lightweight women's crew and was quite disappointed to see no mention and/or picture of my team in the Monday edition of the paper.
We won the gold medal in the grand final, beating our biggest competitor Wisconsin by over 11 seconds.

I am not asking for a full page article or anything, but it would be nice to receive some kind of recognition for our accomplishment. Thank you. Lu Lu '04